Power Word: Kill Once a Day
by Useless19
Summary: A young Mage, called Harry, is asked to deliver a message to Lord Snape about the war against the Lich Voldemort. Dungeons and Dragons realm.
1. To Spinner's Keep

(Please note that parts of this story won't mean much unless you have some knowledge of the Dungeons and Dragons universe [I've also got a 2nd edition slant on this] and/or have read the _Dragonlance_ books).  
(I'm going to post a list of terminology on my profile if you are unsure of anything).

* * *

Harry urged his horse forwards. The land was beginning to darken with the setting sun and the forest on his right appeared more and more sinister with each step. Harry could swear things were moving between the spindly trees.

In front of him a castle slowly came into view. Harry prayed that it was the one he was looking for. He'd already made three mistakes. The last Lord had actually drawn his sword on Harry!

Even if it wasn't the correct castle, Harry hoped he could beg a night's rest within its walls. Just sleeping in the stables would be a luxury compared to kipping on the hard ground.

The sun had fully set by the time Harry reached the castle gates. Howling could be heard in the nearby forest. _Werewolves_? Harry's overactive imagination asked. He snorted as he dismounted and knocked on the huge wooden gate. _Werewolves indeed. You haven't heard a Werewolf before, so stop making up Kender tales_!

The gates creaked open, without anyone near that Harry could see. Not that this was much new, his apprentice tower was full of magical conveniences. Harry tied his horse to a nearby tree in the courtyard. It was blackened and twisted, but Harry could see nothing else to stop his horse from bolting the minute he entered the building. The chestnut-brown beast was whinnying nervously, obviously able to sense something more than Harry.

The young Mage cautiously crept forwards; the smaller set of doors to the interior had swung open when he had tied his horse. The emptiness of the place was making Harry's hair stand on end.

"_If everything's silent, that means there's a trap ready to be sprung_." One of Bill's 'adventurer's tips' ran through Harry's mind at that moment. Perhaps this was a trap... and Harry was walking right into it!

With hands steady from rigorous discipline, Harry dipped his hand into a pouch and pulled out a small piece of gum arabic with an eyelash encased within it. He rolled it between his fingers and muttered words of magic. A second later Harry had become completely invisible to any watching eyes. Soft footfalls down the corridor were the only sign that he was venturing further into the dark castle.

The corridor ended some hundred yards later, cut off by a pair of smaller – but much more nicely engraved – doors than the ones outside. One of the doors was slightly ajar, Harry held his breath as he squeezed through, attempting to keep them as still as possible.

He found himself in a large throne room. The red rugs beneath Harry's feet had decayed and more than one blood stain darkened them further in the gloomy light. The tapestries on the walls had suffered a similar fate, hanging in tatters and blackened by the soot the numerous torch filled sconces had emitted. Despite the many torches, there was a bone-deep chill in the room, and the dais refused to be illuminated.

Harry crept towards the centre, running his memorised spells through his head. His hands remained still near his pouches, ready to plunge in and pull out whatever spell component he would need.

"Now." A command rang out through the hall. It echoed all around Harry, confusing him as to the direction it had come from.

A handful of skeletons appeared from the dark encasing the dais, each holding a rusty scimitar. Harry's heart skipped a beat, _but I haven't got a Cleric to Turn them!_ He mentally slapped himself, _Idiot, you're a Mage._

Harry's moment of hesitation cost him. One of the skeletons took a swipe at Harry and hit his arm. It was only a shallow cut, but every drop of blood counted here. Harry raised his hands, spread his fingers and shouted a word of magic. A sheet of flame burst from his fingertips and made the Undead crumble into a pile of dust.

Harry took a shaky step back. His invisibility spell had stopped working, _not that it worked against Undead in the first place_. He didn't have many spells left for today, and certainly none that would be as effective against multiple foes.

Harry took a calming breath and walked around the pile of bone. He approached the dais, sweating with the sheer terror that was coursing through him. What looked like an old suit of armour rested on the throne.

"State your business." The same voice that had given the command before spoke again.

"I'm here by order of Albus Dumbledore to deliver a message to Lord Snape." Harry spoke, surprisingly clearly for how he felt.

"The message?"

"Er..." Harry licked his lips nervously, "I'm supposed to deliver it straight to Lord Snape."

The suit of armour turned its head; two glowing red eyes looked straight at Harry through the gap in the helmet.

"The message?"

Harry's mouth went dry. He mouthed uselessly, staring at the Death Knight in horror. _This is why no one wanted to run this errand; you should've paid more attention in history lessons_.

Lord Snape stood up and walked to Harry, who was frozen to the spot. Even without the added height of the dais, Lord Snape still towered over the young Mage.

"Speak." He ordered.

Harry gave a surprised squeak, coughed, and spoke in a slightly higher voice than normal. "Albus Dumbledore wishes to know if you are planning on joining the Lich Voldemort. He hopes that you will either aid us, or ignore the war completely. Whatever your decision, for good or for ill, he wishes for an answer."

Snape gave a noise which could pass for a snort. "If he wanted that answer he would have asked me already." The red glow thinned – he was narrowing his eyes. "You're a Potter, aren't you?"

Harry nodded nervously. "Yes sir, I'm Harry Potter."

What _that_ had to do with anything, Harry had no idea. _When – no _if_ – I get back, I'm going to read every single history book Hogwarts tower has to offer_. Harry vowed.

"This is the third time Voldemort has come to power." Snape spoke, startling Harry. "The first time I followed him, then we both lost our mortality. The second time, I stood against him, but I have yet to be rewarded for that."

Harry didn't speak, not knowing if anything he said would matter or not. For a long time, Snape simply stared at Harry.

"Very well." Lord Snape spoke at long last. "Let us go."

"Wh-what?" Harry gasped, confused as to what was happening.

"I have my answer," Snape replied, striding out of the room, Harry stumbling along behind him. "But I will deliver it to Albus myself."

Harry hadn't predicted this turn of events at all. He had to practically run to keep up with the Death Knight's long strides. Dumbledore had warned him that it may take some time before Snape decided on his course of action, so Harry was completely unprepared for travelling again. He'd pushed himself and his horse to their limits to find the correct castle today.

The moon was full in the sky, casting yellow light over the grounds. Snape looked to his right and gave a sharp command.

"Enough."

Harry followed his gaze and was almost sick. There, around the remains of his horse, were three Ghouls, covered in blood and gore. They gave Snape a baleful glare at depriving them from their meal, but they left anyway.

"You thought it wise to leave fresh meat unguarded in Spinner's Keep?" Snape asked, sounding – to Harry's horror – amused.

"I... I didn't think." Harry muttered.

Snape turned and walked around the wall some way. Harry followed dejectedly. They came across a stable, decrepit and filthy, but a stable none the less. Harry's eyes widened in horror as his gaze fell on the only creature in there.

"That's..." Harry couldn't continue.

"A Nightmare, yes." Snape finished for him. Undeterred by the flames lapping at the horse's hooves and nostrils, Snape pulled a saddle and bridle off the wall and fitted them to the Nightmare.

Once Snape was mounted, he held out a hand to Harry. Harry backed away and into the wall.

"It would be death to stay within these walls once I have departed," Snape said, "And I doubt you can survive the Werewolves in the forest for long."

_So there were Werewolves_.

"But that'll..." Harry protested, "It'll burn me."

"Nonsense," Snape told him sharply, "If I wanted you dead, you'd already _be_ dead. What would be the point in burning you now?"

Still unconvinced, Harry moved forwards slowly. He could _feel_ the heat coming off the Nightmare, and the sharp teeth were making him really worried. Snape made a noise of exasperation and Harry grabbed the offered gauntlet before Snape ordered his horse to eat Harry.

Snape swung Harry up in front of him. Harry shivered from the icy touch of the Undead warrior behind him. Snape urged the horse out of the stable and onto the road.

* * *

They rode until daybreak. Snape went hunting while Harry hung about, feeling useless. Snape had told him that making a fire would insult the Nightmare, and he threatened to drag Harry along by his ankles if the Mage lost them their ride.

Snape returned within an hour, pulling along a dead deer. Harry carved a sizable chunk off and spent the next hour trying to convince the Nightmare to let him cook it.

Harry curled up underneath his blanket, trying to sleep, while Snape took watch.

"Is something keeping you from sleeping?" Snape asked once Harry had tossed and turned for an hour. "You don't have to sleep so close to the Nightmare if you wish."

"Just thinking things over." Harry mumbled.

"In my experience, it is never a good idea for Mages to think outside of their spells." Snape said.

Harry looked up at him and propped himself up on his elbows. "You mean like Voldemort?"

Snape's gaze snapped to Harry, who managed to not look away.

"Exactly." Snape said after a long moment.

Harry took time to actually look at the warrior. The armour that encased him from head to foot had been blackened and scratched heavily. A highly polished broadsword was held in a scabbard on his left side and a heavy mace hung on the right. His cloak would have fallen to his ankles, had it not been so tattered.

"Would you like a story to send you off to sleep?" Snape asked, sounding amused. "I would prefer that you didn't sleep in the saddle, it makes more work for me."

"I'm not a child." Harry complained, though he wouldn't mind hearing a story. Bill had always told the best stories.

"Once upon a time," Snape started, he waited for Harry to protest, but the Mage was silent, so Snape continued, "There was a young Human Ranger. He knew his way around a sword and a bow, but he wasn't anything exceptional. One day, he came across a beautiful Elf maiden. She had long red hair and the brightest pair of green eyes the Ranger had ever seen. The two fell in love but it was not to be a happy life for either of them. A Necromancer, by the name of Voldemort, had risen to power, and was determined to put an end to every race except Human. He saw the rest as inferior to Human-kind.

"Never mind his reasoning, all that matters is that you know that both the Ranger and the Elf were in danger. Seeking help, they ran to the Order of the Phoenix, a group of Paladins sworn to protect the land from evil. The Ranger took lessons from the Order to improve his fighting skills, while the Elf joined them in prayer. She found that the Gods allowed her the ability to heal, and she helped the sick. The two continued to be in love and soon the Elf gave birth to a baby boy.

"Now, as you understand it, the Elf was very fair, she had a number of admirers in the court, but she was faithful to the Ranger. One of the Paladins gave up trying to woo her the traditional way and turned his back on his vows and the Order, and made his way to confront Voldemort. The Necromancer struck him a deal, if the Paladin could let the Necromancer inside the Order Headquarters, he would spare the Elf for the Paladin to have.

"The Paladin agreed.

"On the day you now know as The First Downfall, Voldemort entered the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix and laid waste to the occupants. The Paladin was at his side. He cut down his old friends without mercy. When Voldemort happened across the Elf and her husband and child, he killed the Ranger and turned a spell on the Elf. She begged the Paladin to save her child, even as the flames consumed her, but he did nothing. The child looked too much like his father for the Paladin to sympathise with him.

"She cursed Voldemort and the Paladin with her dying breath. The place collapsed, though the child was saved by means of a summoning spell, cast by a young Albus Dumbledore. The Paladin and Voldemort were buried, though Voldemort had taken many precautions and was able to rise as a Lich soon after."

There was quiet, even the Nightmare's snores had subsided.

"That's a very sad story." Harry said quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace.

"For who?" Snape asked. "The Elf and the Ranger had happiness for a few years, which is more than some manage in a lifetime. The child got to live and was raised by Albus Dumbledore. Voldemort continued his reign of death and destruction. The story may involve death, but nothing ends without that."

"I suppose," Harry said. "The Paladin?"

Snape didn't answer for a long time. Harry had almost drifted off to sleep when the Death Knight spoke.

"He has been given a chance to do the right thing. Maybe then, he will find peace."


	2. The History of Hogsmead Village

It took a week to return to Hogwarts tower, under half the time it took Harry to get to Spinner's Keep in the first place. _Snape must have a better sense of direction than I do_, Harry mused silently.

The first fingers of dawn were creeping over the sleeping village of Hogsmead. Harry resisted the urge to call out to a few of his friends, as he usually would have. Snape was studying the placement of houses and shops curiously.

"It has changed a lot since I was last here," Snape explained when Harry asked him about it.

"When was that?" Harry prodded, feeling a spark of interest at the subject of history for the first time in his life.

"About forty years ago," Snape elaborated, "Though I suppose they would have had to rebuild it, considering it was on fire when I left."

"Fire? Did Voldemort do that?" Harry asked.

"No, he was preoccupied with Hogwarts. One of his lieutenants cast a Fireball spell which did the trick."

"Really?" Harry said, "What's a Fireball like? I've never seen one, and Dumbledore says I can't learn it yet."

"Do you think you can handle that level of magic?" Snape sneered.

"I started learning the theory behind the Dispel Magic spell just before I set off, and according to Bill it's about the same amount of power required." Harry said.

"Knowing the theory and channelling the magic are two different things," Snape warned.

"I know," Harry pulled a face, "You sound like McGonagall – my Transmutation teacher."

"Is that a bad thing?"

Harry opened his mouth, but decided not to say anything and shut it with a snap.

Not long later Snape tied the Nightmare up outside the gates of Hogwarts and Harry lead him to Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore was fully dressed and alert, despite the early hour.

"Harry," the old High-Mage greeted cheerfully, "It's good to have you back, my boy." He looked over to Snape, "And I see that you were successful."

Harry blushed and smiled with the praise. However, his smile vanished when Dumbledore began to speak again.

"I wish to talk with Lord Snape in private, Harry," Dumbledore said, "If you could just step outside..."

Harry nodded silently and left. The older two watched until the doors closed behind the young Mage.

"He doesn't know of his history, does he?" Snape asked, sounding as though he was sure of the answer that was to come.

"No," Albus replied.

"I thought not," Snape said, satisfied, "Had he paid more attention to his history studies you may have had a harder time convincing him to fetch me. Very clever, using the boy that way."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Albus denied.

There was a silence, in which Snape walked up to the wall and studied the map of the continent. Markings were placed strategically over the parchment, showing the positions of enemies and allies.

"Any news on the Phylactery?" Snape asked abruptly.

"No," Albus said, moving over to stand next to Snape. "And that's where we were hoping you could help us."

Snape snorted. "I stood far too openly against him at the end of the last war to be able to infiltrate his ranks this time."

"You misunderstand me," Albus drew the Death Knight's attention to a selection of smaller maps laid out on a table, "Through my research I have narrowed the placement of the Phylactery to these places. If you, Harry, and maybe a few others, could check them for me it would help immensely. I have grown far too old to be indulging in adventures like these."

"You want me to go off on what could likely be a wild goose chase," Snape said slowly, "With a Mage who has _barely_ passed his exams and any other person in this town who is idiotic enough to travel with a Death Knight. Is that correct?"

"That's the spirit," Albus smiled.

"May I remind you that I could easily kill you right now?"

"That's why I need you to go," Albus explained, "You are powerful enough to keep yourself and Harry alive. Harry can handle any interaction with people and you can take care of the Dragons."

"Dragons?" Snape quickly scanned the maps. "So help me if we end up looking down the snout of a Black."

"There is little doubt that Voldemort would have used various dangerous creatures to guard his most treasured possession," Albus said, "That may or may not include Dragons. You must be prepared for any possibility."

Snape nodded slowly. "I will have to return to my Keep first."

"I trust that I need not remind that time if of the essence," Albus said.

"We will set out this evening." Snape agreed.

The Death Knight collected the maps and put them in a scroll case that Albus provided. He nodded once to the ancient Mage and walked out of the room.

"I can only hope that you are successful," Albus said quietly after the Undead Lord's retreating form.

* * *

Harry walked grudgingly away from the closed door. The wards surrounding the room were too strong for Harry's Scrying spells. All he could do was hope that either Dumbledore or Snape would tell him what was going on once they'd finished.

Harry nodded – more out of habit than anything else – to a few of his fellow apprentices on his way down the tower. They were too busy rushing around with armfuls of scrolls and various other magical items to pay much attention to Harry. It didn't bother Harry in the slightest; his mind was trying to come up with likely scenarios for why Dumbledore would need someone like Snape.

He didn't even notice he was outside until someone grabbed his arm.

"Hey, Harry!" It was Fred, a local thief. His brother, Ron, was Harry's best friend, "You've got to see this horse!"

To Harry's amusement, Fred dragged him a few feet and pointed at the Nightmare. It didn't look like it was enjoying being the centre of attention.

"Bill swears he saw you and someone in armour on it," George continued for Fred.

"Er... Yes..." Harry said carefully.

"Wow," The twins gave Harry identical looks of awe. "Can you show us?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted, "I've never been near it without Snape."

"No harm in trying," Fred said cheerily.

Harry eyed the Nightmare's pointed teeth warily. "Are you sure about that?"

"What's the worst that could happen?" George asked. "Here horsey, horsey..."

The Nightmare seemed to have had enough. It lunged at George, fire leaping from the ground where its hooves struck.

"Ahhhh!" George yelled, clutching the side of his head.

Harry grabbed him and pulled him out of the Nightmare's range. The fiery beast strained against the rope Snape had tied it with, but the Death Knight appeared to have done a good job. The rope held.

"Bloody hell," Fred whispered from Harry's side.

Harry followed his gaze and felt sick. The Nightmare had bitten George's ear clean off. Harry quickly pulled a cloth out of his robes and held it against the bloody wound.

"That has to be one of the most foolish things I have ever seen."

Harry snapped his head around to see Snape watching them.

"Can you help?" Harry asked.

Snape shook his head. "Take him to a Cleric before he loses all the blood in his body."

Harry nodded, but stopped as Fred took the cloth off him and began to tend to George himself.

"I'll take him home, mum'll be able to fix this." Fred said, "You should stay here, Harry."

"Oh," Harry said, "You're sure he'll be all right?"

"Absolutely," George replied, sounding slightly woozy, "I'll come find you later, Harry, don't worry."

Harry tried to smile reassuringly, but failed. He watched Fred lead George away until he lost sight of the two twins.

"Is he going to be all right?" Harry asked Snape.

The Death Knight untied the Nightmare and started walking away from Hogwarts. Harry trotted after him.

"I believe he will live." Snape told Harry. "After the initial shock they acted like such a thing was an everyday occurrence."

Harry hummed in agreement. They walked in silence for a few minutes, then Harry remembered the direction his thoughts had taken before he met the twins.

"So what did Dumbledore want?" Harry asked.

"There is a reason why you were kept outside," Snape replied.

"But there must be _something_ you can tell me," Harry protested.

"Not if you use that tone."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, "Was it something to do with Voldemort?"

"Calm down," Snape ordered, "Let me speak without interruption. If you are still unsure about anything, then you may ask questions, but only _once I have finished_."

"All right," Harry said happily. This sounded promising.

"Have your studies included Liches yet?" Harry shook his head and Snape sighed. "This might take longer than I anticipated then. A Lich is a powerful Undead Wizard, created by a potion and a specific set of spells. Part of this process is the creation of a _Phylactery_: a magical item which contains the Lich's soul. While this Phylactery exists, it is impossible to properly kill the Lich."

"So that's why Voldemort's back, even though they defeated him last time? He's got a Phylactery?" Harry's eyes brightened in understanding. He looked up to see Snape glaring at him, "Sorry."

"Essentially, you are correct," Snape admitted.

"So what's Dumbledore going to do about it? I mean, he'll be a bit busy stopping Voldemort from taking over again, where's he going to find the time to hunt for this item?" Harry asked, grinning sheepishly when Snape glared again.

"If you would let me finish," Snape scolded, "You would understand that Albus has asked for my assistance in this area."

There was a second's silence as this clicked into place in Harry's mind.

"You're going Phylactery hunting? Can I come?" Harry asked.

"Albus has insisted that I take you along with me, so yes, you may come." Snape said grudgingly.

"Really?" Harry brightened, "I've always wanted to go travelling. Are we going anywhere near the sea? I've always wanted to see the sea. Or mountains. Or –"

"Enough," Snape interrupted, "We will be returning to Spinner's Keep – so I can fully prepare for a journey like this – then I will plan a route for us to take from there. However, while we are near the village, there are supplies that _you_ will have to buy from here, along with recruiting other adventurers."

"Supplies?" Harry sounded confused.

Snape gave a soft snort. "Did you think it a wise idea to go on a long journey without even your spell book?"

"Oh! I'll have to go back to Hogwarts to fetch that. And some spell components too." Harry suddenly realised how much he would have to take. "And my travelling cloak. And some food. And –"

"Stop," Snape ordered, "You can worry about that while you are recruiting others to join us."

"Me?" Harry squeaked, "Why me? I thought you would do that."

Snape shook his head. "I would not be welcomed in Hogsmead village." He pulled a small sack out of the Nightmare's saddle bag, "Here," Harry took it, frowning, "Enough gold to get you a horse, a basic adventurer's kit, and give the others their first wage."

"Wage? You mean they get paid for this?" Harry asked sullenly.

"No more than twenty gold each," Snape paused to take in Harry's disgruntled expression, "You will probably spend far more than that kitting yourself up, that is all the preliminary pay is for."

"Oh," Harry said, pacified. "What sort of people should I hire?"

"I believe another Fighter would not go amiss," Snape said, "Someone skilled in long-range weaponry, a healer of sorts, and anyone who can work with locks." He looked at Harry carefully, "I trust you can handle whatever arcane spells I cannot?"

"Of course I can," said Harry. He hesitated, looking at the bag of gold in his hands, "So what should I tell people?"

"Mention that they will be expected to work alongside a Death Knight, but do not use my name or tell anyone of our quest," Snape explained, "Make sure they either have a horse, or are prepared to use the money you give them to buy one. I expect to get back to Spinner's Keep within a fortnight."

"Ok..." Harry was absolutely sure he was going to mess this up somehow.

"We will leave in five hours," Snape informed him, "That should leave you and whoever you recruit enough time to fully pack and say goodbye."

"Right," Harry said, "Should I bring them back here then?"

"Yes," Snape replied, "Go."

Harry hesitated, but set off a quick walk when Snape gave him a push.

* * *

Harry stood in the middle of the village square, unsure what to do. Snape had made it sound easy earlier, but now Harry was completely at a loss as to how he should go about hiring adventurers.

Two hours had already gone by. Harry had fetched his spell book and components from Hogwarts and had bought a horse. The gray mare nuzzled at Harry's hair as he tried to decide what else he would need.

"Harry! There you are, Harry," Harry turned to see Ron coming toward him, "Fred told me what happened earlier," He looked at Harry's horse in confusion, "Did that really bite off George's ear?"

Harry couldn't help it, he laughed at Ron's expression. Ron huffed in annoyance, which made Harry laugh harder.

"That was a Nightmare, this is just an ordinary horse," Harry told Ron once he had managed to calm down enough. A sudden idea struck Harry. "Do you want to go on a quest with me, Ron?"

"What for?" Ron asked, "If it's just delivering a message again..."

"No," Harry said quickly, "It's going to help in the war against Voldemort."

Ron went a pale shade of green. "Look, Harry, there's no way we're going to be able to take down a Lich. I mean, a _Lich_... they're just too powerful."

"Nothing like that," Harry explained, "We're just going to fetch this magical item that's going to really help."

Harry could see that Ron's interest was piqued. _That's the Fighter down_, Harry mentally ticked off. He reached down to his belt to get the gold for Ron, but felt a sudden thrill of horror.

The money bag was missing.

"It's gone!" Harry yelped. He looked around on the ground, but he couldn't see a trace of gold anywhere.

"What is?" Ron asked.

"My gold," Harry elaborated, "I still have to buy some equipment and that was going to be your wages too!"

"Calm down, Harry," Ron shook the young Mage, "We'll go see if Fred can help us out. Mum's taking George to the Clerics for healing and Fred mentioned having a couple of drinks since it'll take a few hours for the spell to work."

"All right," Harry mumbled dejectedly.

Harry felt awful. His first mission Snape had entrusted him with was going all wrong. What if Snape thought he wasn't good enough? Would he find another Mage to help him?

Hopefully recruiting Ron would take the edge off the Death Knight's anger a bit. Harry contented himself with that thought as Ron led him and his horse toward the tavern: _The Three Broomsticks_. Ron tied up Harry's horse and pulled Harry inside.

"Ron!" Fred shouted as soon as they entered. Ron grinned and went over to Fred, accepting the offered mug. "Ordered two by accident," Fred explained, "George is usually here with me."

"Sorry about that," Harry said quickly.

Fred waved his hand. "You didn't know. Besides, Father Lupin'll have him patched up by the end of the day."

Harry nodded, feeling slightly better about the incident.

"So," Fred said, leaning forward conspiratorially, "What brings you in here on this fine day?"

"Someone stole Harry's money earlier today," Ron said quietly.

"So you think I had something to do with it?" Fred pretended to look offended.

"No," Ron said, "But we were wondering if you've noticed anything or any_one_ who might've."

"It's really important," Harry said.

"Money's always important, Harry," Fred told him, "Though I did happen to spot a shifty-looking fellow earlier. Some Elf in him, if those pointy-ears were anything to go by." He nodded discretely to a corner of the tavern, "That's him, over there."

Harry looked over and decided that Fred was right; the stranger did look Elfish. His eyes slanted up at the edges and the tips of his ears could be seen poking out of his long black hair. He must have only been a Half-Elf, because he also had a bit of a beard.

"Looks a bit tough for the likes of us," Fred commented, "Got that bad-tempered horse anywhere nearby, Harry?"

"We could cause a scene," Ron suggested, "Maybe he'll give Harry back his money if everyone in here makes him."

Fred shook his head. "He'll scarper. We need a solid plan. You're a Mage, Harry, any suggestions?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Magic isn't allowed in here, remember?"

"Maybe you could talk to Dumbledore about it," Ron told Harry, "I'm sure he'll understand."

"I would," Harry said, "If it was Dumbledore who gave me the money in the first place."

Ron frowned in confusion, but Fred's eyes held a spark of comprehension. "You mean it was Snape?"

"Snape?" The three of them turned to see the Half-Elf staring at them. "I could tell you terrible tales of that dark Knight."

He didn't appear to notice the hostile glares from Harry, Fred and Ron. Instead he reached into his pack and pulled out a lute. He gave it an experimental strum and began tuning it carefully.

"So," The Half-Elf said easily, "Any specific requests? Since we're here in Hogsmead, I could tell of the time he burnt the place to the ground. What do you say?"

"He did that?" Harry blurted.

"Ah," The lutist looked delighted, "Someone who has yet to hear the story, fantastic." He strummed the lute again and nodded at the sound. "Shall we begin?" He asked as he began to pluck a mournful tune.

"When the Lich Voldemort's power was at its peak, a mere forty years ago, he thought himself powerful enough to destroy the tower of Hogwarts. And so he came to our little village, bringing cold and death in his wake.

"His highest standing lieutenant came alongside him, the Death Knight Lord Snape. The accursed Undead Warrior sent even the bravest men running in fear, for he had the power to kill a man with one word.

"Though those in hiding prayed for their homes to be spared, the Undead are not creatures of the Gods. Upon Voldemort's command, Lord Snape sent a Fireball into the town's midst.

"The townspeople wept, for nothing could be salvaged from the wreckage. The only comfort they had was in the knowledge that Voldemort had been defeated and Lord Snape had returned to his cursed Keep.

"And now, dear friends, we hear startling news. The Lich Voldemort has said to have risen again. We only hope that his Death Knight will stay away from our homes this time around."

The Bard finished and looked expectantly at his audience. Fred clapped and the Bard gave a bow. Ron looked vaguely interested, but Harry's eyes were wide as things began to click into place.

_Snape had said he wouldn't be welcome here... that Hogsmead was on fire when _he_ left!_ Harry felt the first trickle of doubt and betrayal. _Why didn't he just tell me straight up?_

Harry was brought out of his thoughts as the Bard dumped a bag of gold on the table. A very familiar bag...

"That's mine!" Harry exclaimed.

"That's right," The Bard said, looking pleased with himself, "Got it off a street urchin who'd taken it from you."

The other three stared at him.

"Minus a finder's fee, obviously," he continued. "And payment for that tale."

Harry weighed the bag in his hand, it felt a lot lighter. He scowled as the Half-Elf packed away his lute again.

"So," he slung his pack over his shoulder and smiled widely at the three of them, "Know any good adventuring spots around here? I'm trying to make up a new tale – people are getting tired of the classics – but I can't do that without a decent adventure for inspiration."

Harry couldn't believe his luck. "Actually, I'm looking for adventurers." _What else had Snape told him?_ "You'll have to work with a Death Knight and you need a horse."

"Death Knight?" The Bard's eyes narrowed, "So when you were talking about Snape earlier..."

_Whoops_.

"Er... yeah," Harry said, fearing the Bard's reaction after the tale earlier.

To his surprise, the Bard's face broke into a grin. "Excellent. Everyone loves a story about heroes going dark. When do we set off?"

"In two hours," Harry told him, "I still need to find a healer, then we've got to go meet up with Snape out of town."

The Bard held out his hand. "It's Sirius Black, by the way."

Harry shook it. "Harry Potter."

Ron had a turn. "Ron Weasley."

Sirius offered his hand to Fred, but the Thief shook his head. "I'm not going. That horse'll probably bite off something more important than my ear if I'm around it for too long."

"Right," said Harry, feeling optimistic, "Sirius, if you and Ron could get your gear together, I'll visit the church and see if they've got a Cleric to spare."

"I'll go with you and see how George is doing," Fred said, draining his pint and putting some money on the table.

The four of them went outside and agreed to meet back there in an hour. Things were finally looking up for Harry.


	3. Of Recruiting Clerics

Harry and Fred spent the journey to the church with Fred telling Harry what had happened over the three weeks he was gone. With people like the Weasleys, life was never dull in Hogsmead.

"...and Charlie visited on Wednesday," Fred continued, "Said the Dragons were getting restless with the war and everything. Bill sent a letter with something similar – something's got the Goblins in a worse mood than normal..."

It felt like not time before they were walking through the silent halls of Hogsmead church. Their footsteps echoed loudly, drawing out a Cleric from the library.

"People are trying to scribe in here," she scolded them. Harry grinned as he recognised the voice – Hermione. "Could you please be... Harry!"

Harry opened his mouth to say 'hello', but ended up with a mouthful of bushy hair as Hermione launched herself at him.

"Taking off like that..." Hermione stood back to hold him critically at arm's length, "You could have died! Without so much as a goodbye!"

"It's nice to see you too, Hermione," Harry said breathlessly.

Hermione turned to Fred with a more sombre expression. "George's ear has been healed," she informed him. "But –"

"Yes!" Fred whooped with glee.

"_But_," Hermione stressed, "He's having trouble with his balance right now, and he's very lucky he wasn't poisoned too. I was just looking up reasons why he can't stand up yet."

"Nightmares are poisonous?" Harry asked nervously.

"Of course they are, Harry," Hermione scolded, "Don't you keep up with your studies?"

"Er..."

"Can you take us to George?" Fred said quickly, covering up Harry's blunder.

Hermione gave one last scowl at Harry, but led them to the healing rooms without comment. Inside, on one of the beds, was George. Mrs Weasley was sat at his side, talking quietly to Father Lupin – the highest Cleric in the church.

Mrs Weasley embraced Harry. "Oh, Harry. Where have you been?" She held him critically like Hermione had, "You've lost weight and you're looking a bit peaky. Have you been eating well enough?"

"I'm fine, Mrs Weasley," Harry insisted.

"And travelling with Nightmares," Mrs Weasley looked horrified at the very thought, "I thought you had more sense than that!"

"Honestly, Mrs Weasley," Harry said, "I'm fine."

"Leave him alone, mum," Fred cut in, "He's just come to see how George is doing."

Distracted, Mrs Weasley turned back to George, who was looking slightly woozy. Father Lupin pressed his hand to George's forehead and mumbled a prayer. The glazed look left George's eyes, but Lupin refused to let him sit up.

"It will be best if you lay down for the next hour or so," Lupin told George, "It would not do to have Merlin's work undone so soon."

George nodded, disgruntled. Fred came to stand at the side of his bed.

"How are you?" He asked, surprisingly serious.

"Remember that time we nicked that wizard's wand and he cast a spell that made us feel really weak?" George asked. Fred nodded with a small smile tugging at his lips. "It's a bit like that, but dizzier."

"Remind me never to get my ear chopped off," Fred smiled.

"May I have a word, Harry?" Lupin asked.

Harry jumped; he had almost forgotten that the Priest was there. Hermione, Fred, George and Mrs Weasley looked like they would be fine without Harry for a few minutes.

"Sure," Harry said.

Lupin led him away from the bed and pulled Harry into a hug. "I was beginning to get worried you know." Lupin informed him.

"Sorry," Harry muttered. He smiled sheepishly as Lupin released him.

"You disappear for three weeks then George turns up with his ear torn off saying you were there with him," Lupin scolded, "You should have at least told people where you were going."

"Sorry," Harry said again, downcast, "Dumbledore told me to leave as soon as I could."

Lupin sighed, but he was smiling. "Your father would have done exactly the same thing." He said, "But I worry about you Harry, is there no way for you to leave a message for me?"

"I'll try and remember next time," Harry promised, "Actually... I'm going away again this afternoon."

"So soon?" Lupin asked sadly.

"Sorry," Harry said again.

Lupin shook his head with a tired smile. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Harry. It's only natural that you would want to see the world. I remember a time when I did." He held Harry shoulders and looked at him seriously. "Just promise me that you will do your best to stay safe."

"I promise," Harry said. "This time it's not _just_ me though. Ron's coming, along with this Bard we met, Sirius."

"Sirius?" Lupin frowned, "Sirius Black?"

"That's right," Harry confirmed, "Do you know him?"

Lupin gave a reminiscent smile. "I haven't seen him for a few years, but yes, I did know him. Your father and I travelled with him for a time. That was before your father met your mother and I was bitten though."

"Is he good at what he does then?" Harry asked, hoping that Snape would allow Sirius to journey with them. Harry was always ready to hear stories about his father and knew if he had to resort to begging Snape to let Sirius come along he would.

"He's..." Lupin paused to try and find the words, "He's Sirius. He knows what he's doing, though he can be a little scatterbrained, but... do be careful Harry."

"I will," Harry promised, "But it's not like it's just going to be me and him. Ron's coming too."

"What about Hermione? She enjoys your visits," Lupin said.

"She could come if she wanted to," Harry offered, "A healer would be a big help."

Lupin chuckled. "Very sly, Harry. Very well, if Hermione wishes to accompany you she will be allowed to do so."

"Really?" Harry asked happily, "Great. I'll go ask her."

Harry walked back to George's bed with a spring in his step. He nodded to the Weasleys before turning his attention to the young Cleric.

"Hermione, can I ask you something?" Harry questioned as he tugged Hermione away from the others.

"Of course," Hermione frowned lightly at Harry, trying to figure out his question.

"Well, the thing is: me, Ron and Sirius – he's a Bard – are going on a quest for Dumbledore. It would be really helpful if you came along."

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked cautiously, but Harry could see the glint in her eye – she was interested.

"I can't tell you yet," Harry told her, "But, just so you know, we're going to be working with a Death Knight."

Hermione's hand flew up to her mouth in shock. "A... Death Knight?" she whispered fearfully.

Harry put his hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting way. "It's all right," he said, "I've spent a week with him so far, he didn't try to kill me or anything."

"But Death Knights are evil, Harry." Hermione insisted, "They can't be trusted."

"Well, Dumbledore trusts him," Harry told her, "And that's enough for me. Do you want to come along?"

Hermione bit her lip worriedly. "Dumbledore really trusts him?" she asked hesitantly.

Harry nodded, waiting for her curiosity to win over her fear.

"All right then," Hermione sighed, "I'll come. You and Ron will only get into trouble otherwise. Let me ask permission from Father Lupin first."

"Great," Harry beamed. "Do you have to buy a horse, or will the church lend you one?"

"I'll ask Father Lupin," Hermione promised.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in Hogsmead, Ron was currently asking himself if he truly deserved what was happening to him. If he had thought growing up with Fred and George for older brothers was bad, it was nothing compared to Sirius.

"Seven gold pieces is far too much for a piece of rope," Sirius commented as he and Ron left the shop.

"The rope was only worth one," Ron agreed, "But that was also for the rations and water skin you hid under your cloak."

Sirius laughed. "You've got a good eye for a Human."

Ron shrugged. "If I hadn't then Fred and George would've stolen everything I own long ago. Anyway," he added, "Harry's got better eyes than me."

"I'll have to watch my fingers then," Sirius grinned.

Ron shook his head, but smiled. Sirius started whistling a tune, which Ron recognised.

"Where did you learn that?" Ron asked.

"An old adventuring friend of mine used to hum it constantly," Sirius replied, "Shame we had to disband the group really."

"Lupin?" Ron pressed.

"That's him," Sirius nodded, "He told me he was going with James to a small village, but I never found out where. Is it this one?"

"Yes," Ron said, "He runs the church."

"Ah," Sirius said in understanding, "And that Potter kid, he _is_ James's boy isn't he?"

"Yes," Ron repeated.

"Like I said: shame we had to disband. We were a fantastic group," Sirius sighed wistfully, "But James met a girl and Remus sold all his gear to afford the cost of a cure for his Lycanthropy."

Ron frowned. "Why couldn't he just cure himself? He _is_ a Cleric after all."

Sirius shook his head. "Not back then he wasn't. Deadly with that sword of his. The Werewolf only got him out of sheer luck."

"Do you think we'll come across a Werewolf?" Ron shivered.

"Maybe, maybe not," Sirius said glibly. "You won't be able to do anything with that sword of yours even if we _do_ find one."

Ron unsheathed his long sword to examine it. "What do you mean?"

Sirius gave a low whistle. "What sort of tales do people tell you around here? Silver and magic against Werewolves, kid. Anything else just... doesn't work. Don't really know the reasons as to why, I just know you have to be a fool to attempt a Werewolf hunt with an ordinary weapon like that."

"Bill might've mentioned something..." Ron admitted, "But I don't always pay attention."

Sirius groaned. "Believe me, pay attention. I've seen adventurers turned into statues because they didn't know to close their eyes when encountering a Medusa. No wonder you and – Harry was it? – are perfectly happy to go with a Death Knight."

"Bill goes into all the wrong details," Ron complained in an attempt to pass the blame.

"Who is this 'Bill'?" Sirius asked, "If he can't work a good story, he shouldn't be a Bard."

Ron sniggered. "He's my oldest brother, and he's an Abjurer."

"Ah, Abjurations," Sirius commented, "Useful things, though hardly combat specialists. Does Harry specialise at all? James used to be fantastic at Transmutation spells."

Ron shook his head. "He's trying to be good at everything. Except making Potions though, he can't stand the theory, so the teacher refuses to let him brew anything."

"Always useful to have a Mage who can do everything," Sirius agreed, "It used to frustrate James to no end whenever we found a spell book full of Necromancy spells. Which was more often than not, I have to say, since that sort of magic attracts the nastier crowd."

"Like Voldemort?" Ron asked.

"Like Voldemort," Sirius confirmed.

* * *

The sun was getting low in the sky as Harry and the others rode out of Hogsmead. Bright yellow and red leaves littered the path, signalling the start of autumn. Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, smiling at the success of his first mission to date.

Admittedly two out of the three adventurers he hired didn't have any experience, but neither did he when it came down to it. Hopefully Snape would be pleased.

A gasp from Hermione and the ring of metal as Ron drew his sword pulled Harry's attention to the shadows of a large oak, where a pair of red eyes glowed in the darkness.

"You're late." Snape snapped. Harry could just make out the Nightmare resting on the ground.

"I am?" Harry asked.

Snape walked toward their group, glancing at each of the travellers in turn.

"Dismount," he ordered.

Harry slid off his horse and was quickly followed by the others. Hermione appeared to be hiding herself behind Ron, who was holding his long sword out with a shaking arm. Sirius looked much more at ease, but his hands were resting on a set of daggers strapped to his belt.

"Well?" Snape asked Harry.

"What?" Harry was getting confused.

"Am I to guess what position they hold in the party?"

"Oh," Harry's eyes widened in comprehension. "This is Ron –" Harry gestured at Ron, "– he's a Fighter. Hermione's a Cleric, and Sirius, there, is a Bard."

"Not bad, I suppose." Snape said slowly. "Have you seen them in combat?"

"No," Harry answered.

"I will have to trust on some form of encounter before we reach my Keep then." Snape said, turning back to the tree.

He snapped his fingers and the Nightmare stood up. The normal horses all gave a whiny of fear and stepped back. Snape mounted and looked to Hermione.

"Calm the beasts, Cleric." He commanded.

"Now look here," Ron interrupted, "You've got Harry to drag us on a quest which we know nothing about, the least you could do is learn our names and treat us decently."

Snape manoeuvred the Nightmare closer to Ron, who stood his ground. "Is that a challenge?" he hissed.

Harry felt an unnatural fear wash over him. Snape could kill them, he realised, Snape could kill them easily. He'd probably laugh about it too. Running back to Hogwarts suddenly seemed like a good idea. A _really_ good idea.

"N-no," Ron stammered.

The fear dissipated as instantly as it had come. Snape gave Ron a small nod.

"If you wish to live, I suggest you do not take that tone against me again." Snape warned. "However, give me a reason to respect your views, and I will. Mount your rides; we have a long way before we will stop to rest."

"What was _that_?" Harry whispered to Sirius as he scrambled onto his horse.

"Ever heard of a Fear spell?" Sirius whispered back. Harry nodded. "That's what it was. Death Knights always emit Fear like that. I wonder why we didn't feel it as soon as we came here."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe he can stop it; I didn't feel anything like that last week."

"Maybe," Sirius agreed, "You'll get used to it though, or so I'm told."

The two of them waited for Hermione to cast a spell to keep the horses from bolting in terror. Once that was complete, they set off after Snape, the sun now casting long shadows over the ground.


	4. Fighting tips

(For anyone who does play D&D: I did want to put in combat round by round, but it didn't flow with the story. Try and guess what sort of rolls the group got if you want!)

* * *

Harry watched nervously as Snape paced back and forth. Hermione, Sirius and Ron were just as uneasy, though Sirius was attempting to hide it.

"That..." Snape began, he took a few final steps and turned to face the group, "That was the _single_ worst piece of combat I have ever seen!"

Harry took a step back at the anger coming of the Death Knight in waves. True, the fight could've gone better... but it had been the first one they had been involved in since setting off.

"They were Goblins," Snape continued, "_Goblins!_ If you can't defeat creatures which pose little threat effortlessly, what are you going to do when you come across a Beholder?"

Hermione gave an 'eep' of fear. Ron put his arm around her shoulders comfortingly.

"Stop that," Snape snapped.

Ron dropped his arm, but glared at Snape. Harry thought back on the fight.

_...It wasn't like they had expected to ride into an ambush. Sirius seemed to be the only one unsurprised at the seven or eight Goblins jumping out into the path. Snape had ridden on ahead – so there was no help to be gained from him._

_Ron dismounted and drew his long sword, Hermione began to chant a spell, Harry dismounted and reached into his component pouches, and Sirius unsheathed a pair of daggers._

_The fight had begun..._

"There were _eight_ Goblins," Snape snarled, "Two each, if you were looking at it that way –"

"They won't attack us all nicely like that," Ron interrupted.

"Even so, all of you should be able to handle at least five," Snape said harshly, "Had you not discussed combat with each other? Surely that would be the _first_ thing you should concern yourselves with on a mission like this."

"We don't even know what we're doing yet!" Ron shouted. The tips of his ears were glowing red as his anger mounted.

"With good reason!" Snape shot back, "Why should I trust the secret of my quest to a bunch of woefully inadequate adventurers?"

"We're not inadequate!" Ron fumed.

"Oh?" Snape said, his voice dangerously low, "So you have a secondary weapon within easy reach for when you are disarmed?"

Ron's face flushed with colour.

_...Ron misjudged one of his swings and his long sword flew out of his hands. It clattered over the ground and one of the Goblins – sensing weakness – positioned itself between Ron and his weapon._

_Ron backed off, looking to Harry and Sirius for help..._

"My spare short sword's in my pack," Ron said defensively.

"And how long will it take you to dig that out?" Snape asked coldly, "Enough time for the enemy to run you through?"

Ron fell silent, but continued to glare. Hermione – trembling slightly – took up a stance in front of the red-headed Fighter.

"Leave him alone," she told Snape, "We managed to win that fight... without your help."

"I'm glad I didn't help," Snape said, "If I had then I would have no idea that you are so averse to casting spells to help your allies."

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked sharply, "I healed my friends' wounds."

"Wounds which could have been prevented," Snape snapped at her, "What spell did you begin to cast at the start?"

"_Hold Person_," Hermione answered, "I don't see what that has to do with –"

"It has everything to do with my point," Snape spoke over the Cleric.

_...One of the Goblins lunged at Ron. Its sword glanced off the edge of the Fighter's shield, but still managed to scratch his side._

"_Ron!" Hermione yelped, breaking off her chanting._

_Three of the Goblins had begun to freeze, but at the abrupt end of the spell they merely gave themselves a shake and aimed their crossbows at Harry..._

"Had you completed your casting _before_ yelling to your teammate the threat would have been halved," Snape lectured.

Hermione hung her head, but her fists clenched angrily. Snape looked over at Sirius and Harry, who had wisely remained silent so far.

"Neither of you are blameless in this," Snape told them coldly.

"I know I could've done more," Sirius admitted, "But I wanted to see how they handled themselves. You were doing the same thing." He accused.

"You took down _one_ Goblin," Snape said angrily, "At the very start of the fight. Had you spent longer defeating it, I would have seen some sense to your lack of participation."

_...Before anyone else could react, one of the Goblins fell back. It was dead, Sirius's daggers protruding from its chest. The Bard gave a roguish grin and sat back in his saddle to enjoy the show..._

"I gave Ron my sword to use," Sirius protested.

"_After_ he had taken several blows," Snape finished for him.

_...The Goblins happily ignored the Bard in favour of attacking Ron – the one who posed the greatest threat. The Fighter was attempting to ward off their blows, but there was only so much he could do with a single shield whilst four Goblins hacked at him mercilessly._

_There was a whistle from Sirius and Ron turned just in time to catch the short sword that had been flung at him. The Goblins continued to fight Ron, but now he had a weapon they were a bit warier..._

"Enough!" Snape said harshly as Sirius opened his mouth to argue, "I will not stand for such displays in the future. Understand?"

Sirius looked mutinous, but gave a short nod. Harry couldn't help the shiver of fear as the Death Knight turned glowing red eyes on him.

"And as for _you_," Harry took another step back at Snape's tone. He had been angry with the others, but now there was an undercurrent of pure fury in the chilling voice. "One spell. _One spell!_ That was all you attempted to cast before leaving the rest of the party to deal with the situation."

_...Harry was reaching the end of his casting, when a crossbow bolt shot into his shoulder. It broke his concentration and the spell fizzled. Harry looked at the Goblins to see two others pull the triggers on their crossbows. He leapt behind his horse to avoid them..._

_...He didn't come back out until the fight was over..._

"Were there no other spells you could have cast?" Snape snarled, "No weapons you could have used? In all my years I have never seen such a display of cowardice!"

"Oh really?" Sirius appeared to have reached his breaking point, "What about when you left the Order?"

There was a nasty silence. Harry felt tendrils of Fear escape Snape's control.

"You go too far, Black," Snape hissed.

"No," Sirius stood his ground, "You don't tell us where we're going, what the importance of this quest of yours is. You let no one else take watch. You disappear every evening – without letting us know what you're going to do. In fact, for all we know you could be leading us into a trap."

"You should know I have _far_ easier ways to get rid of someone," Snape continued to speak in his deadly whisper, "One word..." he threatened, "That's all it would take."

Sirius's hands were resting on his dagger hilts. Snape clenched and unclenched his gauntlets in what Harry recognised as an attempt to calm himself.

"All I know is that you supported Voldemort the last two times he rose in power," Sirius was getting louder, "Maybe that's what you're doing now. Hostages are useful, aren't they?"

"If I wanted you for a hostage you would be bound and gagged, so I didn't have to put up with the nonsense you keep spouting," Snape snarled. "What use would you be? The only one who really cares is the Werewolf."

"What do you know about Remus?" Sirius asked quickly.

"Did you really think I wouldn't know when people were traipsing on my land?" Snape questioned, "A fine mess you and those other marauders made of my forest."

Again, Sirius struck before Harry even realised he was going to fight. The dagger Sirius had thrown at Snape made a hollow _clang_ as it glanced off the Death Knight's blackened breastplate. Snape looked at the dagger on the ground, then at Sirius.

"_Stun_," he said in a low, but commanding tone.

Sirius reeled back, staggering drunkenly under the effects of the spell. Snape reached down and picked up Sirius's dagger. He studied the thin piece of metal carefully before slipping it into his belt. Harry rushed to help Sirius.

"What did you do to him?" Harry asked in horror.

"Nothing that won't have dissipated within a few minutes," Snape said calmly, "Let that be a reminder to you all. I will not tolerate foolishness."

With that said, the Death Knight mounted his Nightmare and set off at a slow trot. Hermione and Ron walked over to Harry, who was still trying to keep Sirius steady.

"Harry," Ron said in a low voice, "I don't think this is such a good idea anymore."

"I agree," said Hermione, "Sirius raised a good point: can we really trust Snape?"

"I do," Harry said stubbornly, "And so does Dumbledore."

"Harry..." Hermione said nervously, "I know you like the idea of an adventure, but don't you think we could find something a lot... well, _safer_ to do?"

"Snape was right," Harry argued, "We didn't prepare for anything. I wish he hadn't been so harsh, but we deserved it. I'm going to follow him, it's up to you lot if you want to turn back."

Harry silently prayed that they wouldn't. Hermione and Ron looked at each other for a long time, obviously trying to decide. Before they could say anything though, Sirius blinked, shook his head, and gave a sigh of relief.

"Glad that's worn off," He said, "Where's Snape?"

"He's gone on ahead," Harry replied

A scowl made its way onto Sirius's face. "Again?"

"Me and Hermione are considering leaving," Ron said, purposefully ignoring Harry's betrayed expression.

Sirius scratched his head, contemplating. "I don't know if we should do anything _that_ drastic." He said slowly, "I mean, travelling with Snape isn't the best thing we could be doing, but think about the sort of things we'll see. It's got to be worth it."

"It won't be worth it if we're dead," Ron muttered morbidly.

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Sirius pushed, "If Dumbledore needed a Death Knight to do something for him, then it's going to be dangerous – but also a completely unrivalled experience."

"You said it yourself though," Hermione said, "We don't really know where we're going. Snape said we're going to his Keep, but there is little point in staying there, so where are we going after that?"

"He doesn't know yet," Harry cut in, "Dumbledore gave him some maps, but he hasn't decided where we're going first."

The other three looked at him suspiciously.

"Harry..." Hermione asked slowly, "How much has Snape told you?"

"Just bits and pieces," Harry hedged, "Honestly."

"James was a bad liar, Harry," Sirius told him, "It appears that you've picked up that trait."

Harry blushed. "Look, he made me swear to stay silent about it until he'd had a chance to speak to you first."

"When's he going to do that though?" Ron asked.

"Probably when we get to Spinner's Keep," Hermione replied before Harry had a chance, "Voldemort's spies are everywhere, and if this mission has anything to do with him it would be best to talk about it somewhere Snape believes has a higher degree of privacy than outside like this."

Harry just nodded along. Inside, however, he was grinning; if Hermione was defending their employer she would probably continue on with Harry. Sirius seemed up for anything, so the only problem left was Ron.

Suddenly Sirius swore loudly and scoured the ground.

"Where's my dagger?" he demanded.

"Er..." Harry began, nervous at the look on Sirius's face, "Snape took it."

"That –" Sirius swore again, "That was my best throwing dagger – enchanted and everything!"

Seething, Sirius mounted his horse and set off after Snape without looking back. Harry spared Hermione and Ron one last glance before following suit. They would come after Harry, or they would go home.

Looking over his shoulder, Harry bit back a laugh as he saw Hermione clearly ordering Ron to follow them. The Cleric may be a foot smaller than the lanky Fighter, but she could be extremely bossy when she wanted to.

A few minutes later Hermione and Ron's horses caught up with Harry's.

"Coming then?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Not like I had much choice," Harry heard Ron mumble.

"Of course, Harry," Hermione said with a glare at Ron, "That's what friends are for."

They picked up the pace a bit, to try and catch up with Sirius and Snape. Ron's face suddenly lit up and he turned to Harry and Hermione with a mischievous look.

"Anyone want to place bets on whether Snape'll give Sirius back his dagger or not?"


	5. Meetings and Destinations

The rest of the journey to Spinner's Keep was fairly uneventful. Snape – not needing to sleep – took every watch. Sirius still seemed in a bit of a grump at times, but otherwise he'd be making Ron and Harry laugh at all the dirty songs he knew. Hermione looked on that with a disapproving air, though occasionally Harry caught a smile tugging at her mouth.

All in all, it began to feel a lot more like an outing than a serious quest again. Sensing that Snape might start a long lecture on their '_lack of strategy_' Harry and Ron quickly threw together a semblance of a combat plan one evening and told Hermione and Sirius the next day. Harry had to admit, it did feel nice to have an idea of what to do the next time they came across a group of monsters.

Again, it was nearing night as Harry approach Spinner's Keep, though this time he felt less wary. That was until Sirius whispered to him.

"We're being followed," the Bard said quietly, "Get yourself ready for combat."

Harry quickly pulled his dagger out of his sleeve as Sirius drew his sword. Snape's attention was caught by the light scrape of metal. Sirius pressed his finger to his lips and his eyes darted towards the nearby forest. Snape turned to look and gave a soft sigh.

"Fenrir!" He shouted, "Get out here where I can see you!"

Harry's eyes widened as a grizzled, old man slunk out of the shadows of the trees. He had matted graying hair and his claws and teeth were jagged and yellow. Sirius gave a muffled whimper at the sight of the new arrival.

"There will be no attacking of my companions," Snape ordered when the man stood in front of him. "Make sure they all know that."

"It's barely an hour until dusk, that's when they start hunting," Fenrir had a voice like nails, "Not so sure I can tell them all..."

"_You_ will be held accountable," Snape threatened.

Fenrir's eyes flickered to where Snape's hand rested on his sword hilt. He gave a grudging nod.

"Fair enough, they won't be hunted," Fenrir promised, "Though if they happen to wander into the forest alone..."

"Then I accept that it is their own fault entirely," Snape agreed.

Fenrir gave another nod. He sniffed the air with a puzzled expression, before his gaze landed on Sirius. His face twisted in rage and he bared his teeth.

"You!" Fenrir snarled.

Sirius dismounted and started forward, ready to attack. Snape got off his Nightmare and moved between the two, his sword stretched toward Fenrir and his mace facing Sirius.

"Stop it," Snape ordered.

"He bit my friend!" Sirius shouted, dodging round Snape, only to have Snape catch him in the side with his mace. Sirius dropped to the ground, winded.

"He killed one of my pack," Fenrir snarled, trying to get to Sirius's prone form.

Snape hit Fenrir in the side of his head with the flat of his sword, sending him reeling backward.

"Enough," Snape snapped, "Fenrir, stop it or else I'll have my Cleric cast a Remove Curse on you."

Fenrir looked subdued until Hermione spoke.

"But I can't..." she began.

At her admission Fenrir sent a wolfish grin at Snape, who gave an exasperated sigh.

"Perhaps –" Snape was cut off as Sirius lunged at Fenrir, "Black!"

Sirius managed to slice Fenrir a few times, before Snape yanked him away. The Death Knight shook the Half-elf by his collar.

"Stop it," Snape repeated firmly.

Sirius twisted in Snape's grip, but was unable to free himself. "Let me go!" he complained.

"Both you and Fenrir have limited use to me," Snape's arm didn't move, even with a squirming Half-elf on the end. "Either you do as I say, or I get rid of you." He finished with another shake by Sirius's collar.

Sirius calmed down enough for Snape to let him go, though he shot an ugly look to Fenrir, who was grinning. Snape gave Sirius a shove towards his horse and turned to glare at Fenrir.

"Do I need to repeat my threats, or will you stay in the forest while my companions reside in my Keep?" Snape asked.

Fenrir gave a growl, but nodded. "I'll stay in the forest until they're gone," he promised.

"And the rest of the pack?" Snape prodded.

"Them too," Fenrir snarled. "Happy now?"

"I am satisfied," Snape replied, "I will, however derive much more pleasure from slitting your throat if you do not get off the path right now."

Fenrir leered at Hermione as she gasped, but he loped off into the safety of the trees before Snape could follow through with his threat. Snape returned to his Nightmare and mounted, motioning for Sirius to do the same. The Half-elf glowered, but did so.

"Bloody Werewolves..." Sirius muttered, "Bloody Death Knights letting them get away with everything..."

"That was a Werewolf?" Ron asked in surprise.

"_That_ was the Werewolf that bit Remus," Sirius answered. "He doesn't deserve to live."

"Werewolves are evil," Hermione agreed.

"That depends entirely on your definition of evil," Snape interrupted.

"Werewolves kill people!" Hermione protested, "Killing's wrong."

"The Wolf does," Snape agreed, "But what about the man? Look at your High-cleric, he was a Werewolf for a time, does that make him evil?"

"Father Lupin helps people now," Hermione argued, "He's paid for his past sins."

"What about me?" Snape asked, "You have heard of the atrocities that I have commited, yet do you perceive me as evil?"

"You're doing good," Hermione said quietly.

"Only because it suits me to do so at the moment," Snape replied, "You may do what you do to help your fellow man, but I follow only my own orders – which sometimes coincide with others."

"Like Voldemort's," Sirius muttered.

"Like the Lich's, yes," Snape continued, unaffected. "Which reminds me; the Dark Lord may make an appearance sometime in the near future."

"Voldemort's coming here?" Harry asked fearfully.

"He _may_ decide to seek me out," Snape affirmed, "In which case I want you all to stay away. He is far too powerful for you to defeat right now."

"But what if he attacks us first?" Ron asked, fear creeping into his voice too.

"If you don't provoke him you should have nothing to worry about," Snape reassured them, "Stay back, stay silent, and – if the worst should come to the worst – run. Allow me to handle the Lich."

When all he received were a few nods, Snape dug his heels into the Nightmare's sides and they set off toward the Keep once more.

* * *

Once the horses and Nightmare had been safely locked in the stables – Harry swore he heard an annoyed moan nearby – the five of them entered Spinner's Keep.

Hermione was nearly tripping over everything as she gazed around in wonder. Ron too, looked amazed at the thick (if now dirty and torn) tapestries and ornamental weapon displays on the walls. Sirius seemed unaffected, but Harry could see his fingers trembling at the idea of things worth stealing.

Snape lead them through a door off the main corridor Harry had already seen. They entered what looked like a waiting room, though they only had a short glimpse of it as Snape ushered them up two flights of stairs and into a bedroom.

"Then men can sleep here," Snape informed them. He stalked over to one of the walls and fiddled with a torch bracket. Part of the wall next to it slid open. "The female can sleep through there."

Hermione walked over and peered into the new room. Harry followed, purely out of curiosity. It was similar to the one they were in already, but smaller.

"The door will stay open unless you close it," Snape informed them. "I thought it prudent to provide you with a way to stay together if you wish."

"There's a door to the corridor in here," Hermione pointed out in confusion.

"And it will be locked for the night, as will the one in here," Snape clarified. "There are dangers around the Keep that I may be unable to stop from harming you. At least for tonight, stay in these rooms. Tomorrow I will make plans to allow you in more of the Keep."

"You expect us to just sit here?" Sirius complained.

"Find a way to entertain yourself, or sleep. There's a bathroom through there," Snape pointed to a door, "The water should work."

Sirius grumbled, but didn't say anything directly to Snape. Ron shrugged off his pack and stretched. He sat on one corner of the bed and looked pleased at how comfy it was. Harry and Hermione began to do the same. Snape turned to leave.

"Remember," Snape said as he left, "_Don't leave this room_."

...

Really, Snape should have known better.

* * *

"Hurry up, Sirius," Ron whispered, glancing at the door to Hermione's room.

"It's harder than it looks," Sirius hissed back.

Currently the Bard was crouched by the door which led to the corridor, picking the lock. Hermione had been disapproving, so Harry had pulled her into her room to distract her.

There was a small _clunk_ as the latch slid away from the doorframe. Sirius pocketed his lockpicks with a grin.

"There you go, one adventuring opportunity opened up!" Sirius announced – though he was careful to keep his voice down.

"Brilliant," Ron replied, "I'll go fetch Harry, I'll tell Hermione we're going to play cards or something – she doesn't like gambling."

But before Ron took five steps toward Hermione's room a loud wailing filled the air. It made the hair on the back of their necks stand up on end. As it continued it became apparent that it was more than random wailing, there was a haunting song-like quality to it.

Ron looked over at Sirius for answers, only to see that Half-elf's face draining of colour.

"What is it?" Ron asked, panicked.

"Elvish," Sirius answered. Tears shone in the Bard's eyes, "Such a sad tale..."

* * *

"I can imagine Snape has all sorts of fascinating books here," Hermione told Harry with a wistful sigh, "Think of the possibilities!"

"Yes," Harry agreed, "He may have spellbooks that I could copy spells from."

Hermione punched him lightly on the shoulder. "That's not what I meant," she scolded, "There must be mountains of history in a place such as this. Few people have ever managed to record accurate information about it."

"Maybe there's spells that no one else knows," Harry continued excitedly.

Hermione's reply was cut off as a sorrowful wail reverberated around the room.

"What is that?" She asked fearfully, clutching at Harry.

Harry didn't answer. The song made him gasp as emotions that weren't his own flooded through him. Pain. Betrayal. Fear. And the inexplicable sense of losing something dear. Harry squeezed Hermione's hand, unable to do anything more.

* * *

Snape strode across the large hall toward the dais at the back. Without turning his head he knew that three Banshees were following him. Snape stopped in front of the throne, his glowing red eyes staring at it in disgust.

"We feared you would not make it back anytime soon," one of the twisted women crooned, "After you forbade us during the full moon."

"Indeed," another agreed, her gnarled fingers reaching for Snape's arm, "Such a pity that was, perhaps we could make it up tonight."

"And bringing live ones here," the last said, "So far you have fallen from the path the Gods and the Dark Lord crafted for you."

"The Gods did not put me on this path," Snape said in a dull voice, "They pushed me from my rightful one and this is where I have ended up."

"Once you would have welcomed this," the first Banshee positioned herself between Snape and the throne, "Once you agreed with the Dark Lord's plans for immortality."

"Once I was young and foolish." Snape agreed, "Now I wish for oblivion."

"Not that you will grant yourself that," the second ran her hands over Snape's blackened armour, tracing the phoenix that had once shown his devotion to the Order.

"To take my own life would be the height of cowardice," Snape's voice picked up a bit of its customary snarl with those words. "The Gods will see to my death when they wish to, just as they have seen to my undeath."

"Tempting them into action though, aren't we?" the third woman chastised, "I can feel the Elven blood you craved, beating through the veins of one you brought here."

When Snape had no reply, the three Banshees pushed him into the throne. Opening their mouths they began to sing the Death Knight's transgressions, reminding him of his fall from the Gods good graces and into the depths of an unlife.

Snape hated these moments as much as he loved them. For, even as they brought his shame and misery to the surface, the Banshees' song pulled at the tiny sliver of hope and love in Snape's heart. For a moment, if he concentrated hard enough, Snape could see the long red hair and bright green eyes of the Elf maiden he had betrayed.

"Lily..." Snape whispered as the song forced him to remember how she died. "I'm sorry..."

* * *

(I know Bards can't traditionally pick locks, but I needed him to. Otherwise I'm sure they'll all find themselves in a bit of bother at some point in the future.)  
(I hope everything's becoming clearer now.)  
(Also, 2nd edition has really _really_ complecated rules about Lycanthropy, so I'm just going to use the HP idea for Werewolves for now.)


	6. Morning in a Death Knight's Tower

(There is mention of a map in this chapter. While your imaginations may work, I have drawn up a simple version that can be found in my profile.)

* * *

"Potter..."

"Potter!"

Harry ignored the voice in favour of burying deeper into his quilt. The soft bed was a luxury after sleeping rough for the past few weeks. Something niggled at his mind, telling him that this might be a bad idea...

Suddenly ice-cold fingers wrapped around Harry's upper arm, startling him out of the last dregs of sleep. He looked up to see an irate Death Knight towering over his bed. Snape didn't let go of Harry until he had jerked the young Mage into a sitting position.

"I want you downstairs in the map room as soon as possible," Snape informed Harry and Ron, who was struggling out of his bed, "When you reach the ground floor it's straight across the hall. Wait until then to learn your spells. Tell the Cleric."

Harry blinked stupidly, trying to process the orders. Snape sighed, but left them to it.

"'arry?" Ron's muffled voice floated over from his bed, "You 'wake?"

Harry gave a groan in response, forcing himself to get out of bed before he fell asleep again. The stone floors were thankfully covered in ancient rugs, so Harry's bare feet were saved from freezing.

Tiredly the two got dressed. Ron poked his head into Hermione's room to tell her, only to find the bushy-haired Cleric up and ready and in meditation.

"Oi," Ron called, breaking her trance, "Snape said not to learn spells yet."

"Well I believe in being prepared, no matter what," Hermione shot back acidly.

Ron just shook his head, too tired to get into an argument.

Harry was in for a surprise of his own as he padded over to Sirius's bed. Instead of a sleeping Bard, a carefully rolled up blanket was under the covers. Harry looked confused for a moment, before realising that the Half-Elf must have sneaked out at some point last night.

"He could've woken us," Ron complained as he looked over Harry's shoulder.

Harry shrugged, somewhat glad Sirius had let him sleep in a comfortable bed the entire night, and somewhat disappointed that he hadn't gotten a chance to look around the Keep anymore.

* * *

Harry paused at the bottom of the stairs as he heard Snape's voice from the hall. Harry sneaked forward, Ron and Hermione right behind him. They waited at the door to listen in on the conversation.

A second voice spoke, though it was too quiet to be understood. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm in fear. Where they had expected Sirius's light tones, this voice was as chilling – if higher pitched – as Snape's.

"Another Undead?" Ron whispered.

"Maybe," Harry answered, pressing his ear to the door to try and hear better, "This place is full of them... Ah!"

Harry yelped in surprise as the door opened. He fell flat on his face, dragging Hermione down with him. Ron kept his feet, but the colour drained from his face when he saw who Snape was talking to.

An inexplicable cold had filled the hall. Harry scrambled off the icy flagstones to stare in horror at the person – no, creature – opposite Snape. What had once been human now stood with barely any flesh adorning its yellowing bones. Tattered – though expensive-looking – robes covered most of the disfigurement, though its face and hands were still visible. Glowing red eyes looked Harry up and down in disgust.

"_This_ is what you are fighting me for?" The thing asked Snape in amusement.

"You have your answer," Snape replied, "Leave."

"Now, now, Severus," the creature taunted, "Where are your manners? Are you not going to introduce me to your lovely guests?"

"I have told you once," Snape threatened, "Make me ask you to leave again and I will use force."

The creature ignored Snape, instead it bowed to Harry and the others.

"Lord Voldemort, Necromancy specialist" it said, "And you are?"

None of the living moved. Harry's mind was going a mile a minute. _Voldemort_, it screamed at him, _Voldemort's here!_ The Lich's face twisted in anger.

"I asked a question, I expect an answer!" He snapped and he pulled a piece of fur and a glass rod out of his robes. Harry's fear spiked again. The Lich spoke words of magic which Harry, even in his frightened state, could understand.

_A Lightning Bolt_, Harry's mind shouted, even as the spell shot toward him. Pain in Harry's forehead momentarily blinded him. Hermione's worried voice was chanting a Healing spell, barely piercing the fog that surrounded Harry's mind. Blackness took over and Harry knew no more.

* * *

"Harry?" A hoarse voice brought Harry back to wakefulness.

"Hey, mate, you all right?" Harry recognised Ron's voice, tinged with concern.

"Yes," Harry sat up and clutched at his head, hoping that the world would stop spinning. "What happened?"

"Voldemort got you with that spell," Ron supplied.

"Why're you two unharmed though?" Harry asked, "It should've got you too."

"Snape took the full force of it," Hermione explained, "You were only hit by a small amount," she sniffed and Harry caught a glance of red-rimmed eyes, "Snape said you were lucky, any more and you would've died."

"It's all right, Hermione," Harry reassured her, "I'm alive, aren't I? And Voldemort's gone, right? It's all part of adventuring."

Hermione sniffed again, then launched herself at Harry. "But you could've died!" she sobbed.

Harry patted Hermione awkwardly. Ron let the Cleric cry on Harry for a few seconds then gently pulled her back so Harry could breathe.

"What happened once I was hit?" Harry asked, wandering why Voldemort had left.

"Well," Ron started after a glance at Hermione, "Hermione began healing you and I couldn't do anything and Snape..." Ron gave Harry a nervous smile, "It was really scary. I've never seen him so angry, he just went all quiet and Voldemort... Snape started toward him with his sword and Voldemort teleported away."

"Just like that?" Harry asked incredulously.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look. "Honestly Harry, _anyone_ would've run at that point." Ron said.

They lapsed into a silence, which was broken by a clatter and the familiar sound of Sirius swearing. Loud footsteps signalled that Snape was with him. Harry and Ron shared a grin while Hermione frowned.

The door opened and Snape walked in, dragging Sirius by his hair. The Death Knight pushed the Bard into the room fully before locking the door carefully.

"Do you have any idea how expensive replacing those locks is going to be?" Snape shouted, obviously continuing a tirade from earlier.

"You've got plenty of gold to pay for it," Sirius protested, tugging his hair back into place.

"I don't want to waste it because you couldn't keep your picks to yourself!" Snape snarled.

"I just wanted a look around," Sirius said, "And now you know you need better locks."

Snape's hands were tightly fisted in an attempt to keep himself calm. Hermione interrupted before the Death Knight could say something scathing back to Sirius.

"Could you keep it down!" She scolded, "Harry needs peace and quiet to heal."

Both Snape and Sirius appeared taken aback that the short Cleric would tell them off like little children. They stared at Hermione for a few seconds, then Snape snapped his gaze to Harry.

"You're awake," Snape stated.

"Er... yes," Harry said, he hesitated, "Hermione said you took most of the Lightning Bolt and –"

Snape waved his hand. "Be thankful it was only a weak spell."

"Weak!" Hermione gasped, "Harry almost died!"

"_Almost_ being the operative word," Snape said, sounding amused at Hermione's shock.

"Come on, Hermione," Sirius put in, "What's an adventure without a little life or death situation? Besides, Harry's got a scar to prove he tangled with the nastiest Lich alive and survived. Ladies will be impressed." Sirius winked at Harry.

Harry tentatively reached up to his forehead. His fingers traced a jagged scar. Hermione held up a small mirror and Harry could see a raised, red, lightning bolt shape over his right eye.

"Ironic really," he mused.

"You told us not to learn any spells!" Hermione suddenly accused, "If I hadn't then Harry would probably be dead!"

"I did not expect the Dark Lord to appear so soon," Snape admitted. "Clearly I underestimated how unhinged dying twice had made him."

"See," Sirius suddenly put in, "_Hermione_ didn't follow your instructions properly, and you're not yelling at her."

"Now that we have overcome _all_ possible distractions," Snape said, ignoring Sirius, "May I suggest that we start planning our journey?" Though the question was innocent, Snape's tone brooked no room for further disagreement.

The five of them grouped round a table that Snape indicated. A large, heavy map had been nailed to the wooden surface many years ago. The yellowed parchment showed the whole of Diagon, though not in great detail.

"Spinner's Keep is located here," Snape pointed at a black tower, "Our destinations are in each of the separate kingdoms."

"Why are we going?" Hermione asked.

Snape fixed her with a sharp glance. "We're searching for Voldemort's Phylactery." He paused before continuing, "Well done, Potter. You managed to keep your word."

Harry beamed at the praise. Hermione was whispering frantically to Ron – probably explaining what a Phylactery was. Sirius had a familiar glint in his eye.

"So we're going to be battling whatever forces Voldemort's got keeping his soul safe?" The Bard asked eagerly. At Snape's short nod he grinned, "Excellent. This really is the stuff of legends."

"As I was saying," Snape's patience was wearing thin already, "We have not got a specific location, but we have a choice. Albus has managed to narrow it down to four places..."

"One in Gryffindor, one in Hufflepuff, one in Ravenclaw and one in Slytherin," Sirius interrupted, "Right?"

"Correct," Snape said with nasty glare, "I have been studying the maps Albus provided me with and I believe I know whereabouts of each place. You may check for yourselves at a later date, but for now, I have marked them on the map."

Harry looked carefully and realised some of the nails were pinned through inked parts of the parchment. The closest one to Spinner's Keep was at least fifty leagues away.

"Voldemort came from Slytherin," Sirius said as he leant over the map, "I think we should start there."

"A path through Ravenclaw may be to our advantage," Snape argued, "It will not take us too far out of our way to finish in Slytherin."

"Not if we go straight... ah." Sirius traced his finger along the map until it came over a large patch of forest on the border of Slytherin.

"What's wrong with there?" Harry asked curiously.

"Elves," Snape said, while Sirius grimaced.

There was a moment's hesitation before Hermione voiced Harry and Ron's thoughts. "But Sirius, you're..."

"Half-human," Sirius finished bitterly, "They wouldn't be too happy if I went there."

"We would do a lot better by taking the longer route," Snape agreed.

Harry felt like he was missing something, but shook it off. He'd think things over once he was alone. Ron frowned at the map.

"What about going into Gryffindor or Hufflepuff?" the lanky Fighter asked, "If we go east then it'll take us longer to get back to them. We could start in Hufflepuff and go clockwise."

"Have you ever been in a desert before?" Snape questioned.

"...No," Ron admitted.

"Nasty things," Sirius shuddered, "Blisteringly hot days, frigid nights, and no water anywhere."

"Sounds horrible," Hermione said.

"We will not enter the desert until you have more experience travelling rough," Snape said firmly. "And Gryffindor... The place we are looking for is hidden within Godric's Port. It will be difficult to navigate the city without notifying the residents."

"But as Ron said," Harry spoke up, "If we go to Ravenclaw _then_ Slytherin we'll be as far away as possible from the other places."

"True," Sirius said, scratching his beard, "And I wouldn't like to trek over those mountains twice."

"It may be possible to find passage on a ship bound for Hufflepuff, in Slytherin," Snape said, "Or even a Mage with a Teleport spell."

"It _would_ cut out a large chunk of desert travel if we enter Hufflepuff from the sea," Sirius said slowly, "That sounds fine to me. Ravenclaw, here we come!"

Snape looked at the younger members of the party. "Have you any complaints with that plan?" he asked.

Harry and Ron shook their heads. "Looks like a good idea," Hermione agreed.

"Wonderful," Snape drawled. He looked Ron up and down, "Follow me." He ordered.

Ron sent a worried glance to Harry and Hermione, but traipsed after the Death Knight. Harry – ever the curious one – followed too. Snape led them into another room off the main hallway.

Harry walked straight into Ron when the Fighter stopped and stared. They were in an armoury. All types of weapons, shields and armour was either piled around the room or fixed to the walls.

Snape was sorting through one of the bigger piles, tossing whatever he deemed worthless into another stack. Ron made a faint noise of protest as Snape bypassed a full set of plate mail to emerge holding a piece of chainmail. There was an odd glint to the metal rings when it caught the light.

"You will need better equipment than what you have now," Snape said by way of explanation as he pushed the chainmail into Ron's arms. "Try that for size, I'll search for a weapon."

Snape strode over to one of the weapon racks and began a similar process. Ron tugged the chain shirt over his head. It fit surprisingly well, though it was a bit big around the shoulders.

"That will have to do," Snape said as Ron pulled at it.

"What about the plate mail?" Ron asked, "Wouldn't that be better?"

"If you were accustomed to wearing it, perhaps," Snape agreed, "Though nearly all of what is here has begun to rust beyond repair and are sporting an insignia that would get you killed in most places."

"Oh," Ron said quietly.

"Here," the Death Knight handed Ron a long sword.

"I've already got a sword like this," Ron pointed out in confusion.

"Not quite," Snape said, turning back to the piles of metal again.

Ron looked to Harry, completely bewildered. Harry was about to shrug his shoulders, but then he noticed a sheen to the sword, almost identical to the chainmail.

"It's magic?" Harry suggested.

Ron's confusion turned to into a look of awe. His grip on the weapon became loose, as though he was scared how fragile the sword might be. Snape snorted as he approached the boys again.

"The enchantment is not going to wear off if you hold it tightly," Snape sneered, "It was _made_ for combat. Try these."

Snape pushed a pair of bracers into both Ron and Harry's hands. Harry sent a look of complete helplessness at Snape, who sighed and proceeded to both lecture Harry and strap the bracers firmly to his forearms.

"I would have thought that Hogwarts anticipated their Mages either making or finding magical armour. Pay attention, because I will not do this for you again." Snape ordered. "Get used to wearing them, they may save your life someday."

Harry flexed his hands when Snape finished, secretly glad that the icy metal of Snape's gauntlets had stopped touching his wrists. The bracers made Harry's arms feel oddly heavy, even though they were only made of leather.

Ron, on the other hand, appeared right at home with his new armour adjustments. He took a few practise swings with his new sword, only to be stopped by Snape grabbing his arm. Ron shivered at the touch.

"_Not_ in here," Snape snapped, "Pick a shield off the wall and follow Potter into the throne room. I will be there soon enough to test your skills properly."

Ron gulped and visibly paled as Snape pushed him none too gently toward the shields on display. Snape left the room and Ron let out a shaky breath. Harry moved over to try and comfort his friend.

"You'll do fine," Harry reassured him.

"But what if he decides I'm not good enough?" Ron asked fearfully, "I've just started to get used to the idea of this quest. I don't want to be left behind."

"It'll be fine," Harry repeated, "I thought exactly the same when I had to recruit people, and look how that turned out."

"You lost your money."

"I got it back, and got Sirius too," Harry said quickly. "Once you get there, you'll be fine, stop worrying."

"You're sure?" Ron still sounded uncertain.

"Of course I am," Harry said confidently, "Besides, Snape's got Hermione to answer to if he so much as cuts your hair."

Ron managed to grin properly at that. "It'll be worth it, just for that. Help me pick a shield."

The two of them turned back to the display, feeling better than they had all day.


	7. The Past is History

Harry, Hermione and Sirius – the latter having been forced into the room and warned on pain of death not to leave – watched as Ron approached Snape warily. Snape was calmer than Harry had ever seen him, while Ron was pale and his sword-arm shook.

"We will start with the basics," Snape said once Ron was opposite him, "Show me what you know."

Ron hesitated, unsure exactly what Snape wanted. Snape gave a snort of exasperation.

"Attack me," Snape ordered.

When Ron still didn't do anything, the Death Knight swiftly lunged forward, his broad sword striking only a glancing blow off Ron's new chainmail. Ron staggered backward in shock, but managed to bring up his own sword in defence as Snape struck again.

Snape gave a small nod and stepped back, waiting for Ron to lead. This time Ron wasted no time delaying and attacked Snape as soon as the Death Knight motioned for him to do so.

Snape blocked every attack Ron made effortlessly. Harry had never appreciated swordplay before, but this was something more than the boys in the village attacking each other with sticks. Snape moved with a speed and grace that was astonishing in the heavy plate mail that covered him from head to toe. Ron, while not as practised, managed to hold his own.

That was until Snape, with a precisely calculated move, disarmed the younger Fighter. Ron's sword skidded over the floor in a parody of his fight against the Goblins. Ron looked to the observers for help.

"Do _not_ expect them to aid you," Snape snarled, "Fetch your weapon."

Ron started toward his sword, but was thrown to the side as the flat of Snape's sword hit his side. The red-head looked up in surprise. Harry had to grab Hermione to stop her from rushing over.

"Fetch your weapon," Snape repeated.

Ron scrambled to his feet, keeping an eye on Snape this time. Therefore he was prepared when Snape made another attack. The broadsword made a loud _clang_ as it hit the shield. Ron grimaced at the force of the blow, his arm ached something fierce.

They continued in that vein, while slowly moving toward Ron's discarded sword. Finally the young Fighter's foot hit the hilt of his sword. Determined, Ron shoved his shield toward Snape, taking the Death Knight by surprise. Taking the few precious seconds his act had bought him, Ron leaned down to grab his sword, rolling on the ground to stand up facing Snape.

This earned him another nod. Ron grinned cockily.

"Again," Snape intoned, readying his sword.

Ron's grin slipped off his face as he twisted out of the way of Snape sword. And so the clash of metal on metal started up again.

* * *

While Ron was resting from the sparring match and Hermione was healing him and Sirius had wandered off to Merlin only knew where, Harry followed Snape back into the map room.

"When Voldemort cast that spell on you, did you know what it was before or after the cast had finished," Snape asked, looking over the contents of one of the bookcases, "Or did you have no idea what it was until you were told?"

"I knew what the components were, and I think I understood what he was saying before it struck me," Harry said carefully.

Snape picked a book off the shelves and flicked through it until he found what he was looking for. He pushed the open book over a table toward a confused Harry.

"Here," was all Snape said.

Harry peered at the archaic symbols littering the pages. Something clicked in his mind and the spell became clear.

"Lightning Bolt?" Harry asked Snape.

"Very good, Potter," something that might have been pride tinted Snape's hollow voice, "You may study the rest of the book, none of the spells require anymore skill or power than you should be able to handle."

Curious, Harry flicked through a few pages. He came across a spell that made his breath catch in his throat.

"Fireball? You're letting me learn Fireball?" Harry asked, his eyes wide.

"You need to be adequately prepared," Snape said as an explanation, "Many Mages ignore combat spells simply because they believe that they will never enter battle. I do not want you to hinder us during fights."

"But you already know how to cast a Fireball, why do you need me to as well?" Harry asked.

Snape's gaze snapped unwaveringly to Harry. "Where did you learn that?" Snape asked harshly.

"S-Sirius told us," Harry stuttered, shaken by Snape's tone. Drawing courage from some place Harry continued, "He told us you burnt down Hogsmead."

"Of all the..." Snape muttered, pacing back and forth, "Why would he even tell you about that?"

"That was before I hired him," Harry clarified, "I was talking to Fred and Ron about the Nightmare and Sirius overheard."

Snape stopped pacing to fix Harry with a cold glare. "I thought I told you _not_ to mention me by name."

"I didn't mean to," Harry protested, "Besides, it got Sirius to come along, didn't it?"

Snape snorted. "Sometimes I ask myself if that really was a good idea."

"You said you needed someone who could pick locks," Harry was getting angry, "Sirius can do that and he's quite good at fighting too."

"I didn't want a demonstration of his skills on half my Keep!" Snape snapped.

"Well you should've barred the door or something," Harry shot back, "You knew what he was like and you didn't do anything about it!"

"Do _not_ take that tone with me," Snape snarled.

"Or what?" Harry felt reckless all of a sudden, "Or you'll stun me and leave like you did with Sirius? You've never faced up to anything, have you?"

In one lightning fast motion, Snape grabbed the front of Harry's robes and dragged him over the table. He held Harry about a foot off the ground, so they were eye to eye.

"You know _nothing_ about what I have done," Snape hissed, "What I have given up, what I have lost... _Nothing_."

Harry could feel the Fear spell slip out of Snape's control again, but for some reason he didn't feel the need to run like last time.

"You heard the song last night," Snape continued, "I face my mistakes every time I hear it! I know what my greed cost me, what my pride stole from me. I live an unlife and I face it every second of every day."

He threw Harry to the ground and crouched down in front of him.

"You want to hear a story, Potter?" Snape asked, his voice deceptively calm, "Once upon a time there was a Paladin who turned his back on the Order and was cursed by an Elf maiden. Now he has been coerced into working with her great grandchild." Snape stood up over Harry, "Don't call me a coward, Potter. I face my mistakes every time I look at _you_."

With those chilling words Snape turned on his heel and exited the room, leaving a bewildered and shaken Harry behind.

* * *

Ron found Harry an hour later. The Mage had been staring at the Fireball spell, but not taking anything in ever since Snape had stormed out earlier.

"You all right, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Fine," Harry replied automatically.

There was a short silence. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Harry beat him to it.

"What would you do for Hermione?" Harry asked, not lifting his gaze from the strange patterns on the page.

Ron scratched his head in confusion. "Depends on what you mean."

"Say..." Harry thought about how to phrase what he was about to say, "Say she loved someone else, what would you do to win her heart?"

"Harry..." Ron said, "What are you getting at?"

"Would you betray me and Sirius?" Harry looked up for the first time, "Would you go to Voldemort to see if he could help you get her?"

"No, of course not," Ron said immediately, "I mean, if Hermione was happy..."

"She was happy," Harry snapped, bewildering Ron even further, "She was happy and he betrayed her."

"Harry..." Ron said slowly, "Are you still on about Hermione?"

"No," Harry hung his head.

"Then what's wrong?"

"It's Snape..." Harry choked on the name, "He... Do you remember someone joking that I must have some Elven blood since I could see in the dark better than everyone else?" Ron nodded slowly, "Remember Dumbledore not joining in with the laughter?" Ron nodded again, "That's because I _do _have some Elven blood."

"But you don't have pointy ears or anything like Sirius," Ron pointed out in confusion.

"It was my – what did Snape say? – great grandmother," Harry said bitterly, "She cursed Snape into a Death Knight."

"Blimey," Ron breathed, "And he always seemed to like you better than the rest of us."

"He does," Harry whispered, "He loved her. She was happy... and he let Voldemort kill so he could have her."

It suddenly became too much for Harry. He sank to the ground, tremors running through his body. Ron collapsed next to him, putting an arm around Harry's shoulders comfortingly. They sat in silence until Harry's shaking subsided.

"I'm not as good as Hermione at this sort of stuff," Ron admitted, "But I want to help you, whatever you need."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said quietly.

"The way I see it," Ron said, scratching his head with his free hand, "If Hermione was with someone else who I didn't think was good enough to breathe the same air as her, I'd try and find a way to make her see that." Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Ron carried on, "And even if she found someone who could treat her like a princess, I'd still hate him and love her."

"But would you go to Voldemort?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"No," Ron said, "But what use would I be to a Lich? I mean, you've seen how Snape fights, right? I was giving it my all and he was holding back loads. Besides, if he was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, he'd be able to give Voldemort information from them too."

"Well, if not Voldemort, someone else with a lot of power?" Harry pushed.

"Maybe," Ron said quietly, "She means a lot to me, so... maybe"

They lapsed into another silence. This time it was broken by Harry.

"I... I'm going to find Snape," he said slowly.

"You sure?" Ron asked uncertainly.

"I... yes," Harry said firmly, pushing himself to his feet, "I want to figure some things out."

"Well, all right then," Ron stood up, still looking unsure.

"You should tell Hermione you know," Harry instructed Ron, "Before someone else does."

Ron's ears went red with embarrassment. "Not right now..."

"Soon," Harry said firmly, smiling for the first time since Ron entered the room.

However, his smile faded as he set off to find Snape. He'd be damned if he let the Death Knight keep such important secrets from him again.

* * *

Harry finally found Snape, at the top of the Keep. The sun was high in the cloudless sky, but there seemed to be a darkness surrounding the armour-clad figure. Snape's back was to the trapdoor Harry pulled himself through, but the Death Knight didn't appear surprised at the Mage's appearance by his shoulder.

"Come to have your revenge?" Snape asked sardonically.

"Why? Because you betrayed my great grandparents?" Harry watched a solitary bird take flight out of the vast forests nearby. "Ron doesn't even know his _grandparents_, I wouldn't have ever met them."

"Elves live longer than human," Snape reminded him, "You may have seen Lily."

"Was that her name?" Harry asked.

Snape looked at Harry for a long time before answering. "For one so curious for stories and adventure, I would have thought you might have asked someone before now."

Harry shrugged. "Our history teacher was really boring. Listening to something like Charlie's stories about Dragons was a lot more interesting. I ended up believing the only good stories were made up or were happening right now."

"And what do you believe now?" Snape asked.

"The only reason right now is so interesting is because of what's happened before," Harry answered slowly. "So the stuff before has to be interesting too."

"History teaches us lessons," Snape said, looking out over the land again, "If we can learn from our mistakes then history has served its purpose."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked quietly.

"Why are you still here?" Snape asked straight back.

"Because..." Harry struggled for the right words, "Because you're helping us get rid of Voldemort."

"Is that all?" Snape pressed.

Harry shook his head, but didn't say anything. Snape gave a tired sigh.

"Had I told you my entire history immediately you would never have followed me," Snape explained, "There are still things you don't know, things which I am not going to tell you unless I deem it absolutely necessary."

"Why not?" Harry demanded.

"Because," Snape enunciated carefully, "Despite having been involved in a fight against Goblins and meeting Voldemort, you are still a young man who knows little about the ways of the world."

"I know plenty!" Harry bristled.

"I am sure you do," Snape agreed, "Just not in the subjects I am talking about. No," he held up his hand as Harry tried to interrupt, "I am not insinuating anything bad about you, just that you have not the experience that I have."

Harry shut his mouth with a _click_, still fuming.

"For one thing," Snape turned fully to face the young Mage, "You have yet to take a life."

Harry's anger faded as he nodded his agreement.

"I doubt your Cleric friend has either," Snape continued, "That is something you must learn on this quest. While I hope everyone in Diagon does not have to learn the horror of warfare, I have a feeling that this will not be the case. Voldemort is on the move again, already casualties have occurred."

"I was almost one of them, wasn't I?" Harry asked sombrely.

"Almost," Snape agreed.

"And you saved my life," Harry said softly, "That could've killed you."

"I have a strong resistance to magic," Snape explained, "I was in no danger."

"Oh," Harry said, "Couldn't you try and kill Voldemort easily then?"

There was a moment of stunned silence then Snape began to laugh. He grabbed the parapet to keep himself upright while Harry looked on in confusion and annoyance.

"It wasn't that much of a stupid suggestion was it?" Harry snapped.

"This is exactly what I mean," Snape still sounded amused, "You have no idea what it is to battle a Lich. There are plenty of spells which could still harm me. Say he summons a battalion of monsters and Teleports away? Or he could set a trap using his illusionary spells. I may be able to cast a Fireball spell that can wipe out an entire village, but what use is that if the Dark Lord is too close to something I don't want destroyed?"

"I'm sorry I asked," Harry muttered.

"You will learn in due time," Snape sobered up, "And it will not be easy."

There was something off about Snape's voice, but before Harry could ask about it, the Death Knight strode over to the trapdoor and swung it open.

"Come, I believe I have to discuss combat with the Cleric," Snape ordered, "And probably drag the Bard out of a room he should not be in."

Harry nodded and followed. He didn't know if he felt any less confused, but he definitely felt better after that talk.


	8. Are Clerics Flamable?

(Thank you to everyone who reads and/or reviews. I probably won't reply unless there is a coherent question in any reviews though.)

* * *

Hermione Granger was a smart young woman. She had read every book the church had to offer, along with any Harry could provide from Hogwarts tower. She may not be incredible beautiful, but she knew her knowledge would last longer than a pretty face. Most of all she prided herself on her common sense – knowing when to carry on or whether her endeavours should be stopped before anything bad came of them.

So why in Merlin's name was she in Lord Snape's Keep?

Hermione had been taught from an early age that Undead were abominations, creatures that went against the will of the Gods. Moreover, she had learnt that the Undead were not at all sentient, merely mindless monsters that wished harm on anyone who was unfortunate enough to stumble across their path. As time passed she had begun to realise that the latter of these two statements could not be entirely true – after all, a mindless monster could hardly cause the terror and _well planned_ destruction that the Dark Lich had. Snape too was intelligent, having retained his mind and strength from his days as a living Human.

The young Cleric knew exactly why she had come on this quest: to keep Harry out of at least a little of the trouble he was going to undoubtedly fall into. Honestly, Hermione smiled, he could be incredibly bright when he put his mind to it, but the poor Mage had only enough common sense to fill a thimble. Ron was the same, but Hermione's reasons surrounding the Fighter were different and to be examined later.

"Cleric," Snape said by way of greeting as he entered the room, "We need to discuss your combat skills."

Ah yes, Snape was keen to teach her how to fight.

"I've already told you, Lord Snape," Hermione replied, striving to be polite to something that disregarded her beliefs, "_I do not wish to fight_."

Snape seemed unaffected by her sharp tone. "You may not _wish_ to, but you will learn or you will become a liability."

"And if I have vowed not to shed blood?"

"There are ways around that," Snape said with far too much understanding for Hermione's liking. "The head of your church, Father Lupin, does he not carry a mace or club?"

"He lived as a Fighter before following the will of Gods," Hermione answered, "There are times when his old habits come into play."

"True," Snape gave a nod, "And you have no habits as such to fall back upon. What of your spells though? Will you ignore their usefulness in combat and pray for only Healing in the mornings?"

"My vows have stated that I must do no harm," Hermione said firmly.

"Vows are all well and good when you do not know what it is you are pledging," Snape argued, "This is a lesson it appears you must learn the hard way."

"I refuse to learn how to slaughter anyone," Hermione resolved, "Especially from the likes of you."

Snape was unaffected by the slight. "We will see about that." He promised.

The Death Knight exited the room, leaving a shaken Cleric in his wake.

"I will _not_ break my vows," Hermione spoke softly to herself, "I will _not_."

* * *

Hermione looked at her companions in the light of dawn. Snape, as always, darkened the very air he stood in; the Nightmare he sat astride tossed its head proudly, raring to be off into the unknown. Harry chattered excitedly at Snape's side, unconcerned that the Death Knight only answered one in twelve questions and glared at every other one. The young Mage rubbed absentmindedly at his new scar, he appeared unaffected by his most recent brush with death. Ron and Sirius were pouring over something Sirius had pulled out of his pack. The Half-elf was as carefree as he ever was and Ron was caught up in his mood.

"Psst, Hermione," Sirius hissed, watching Snape and Harry carefully, "Look what I got."

The Bard brandished a bag showing Hermione the contents. Diamonds glittered in the morning sun.

"Sirius! That's stealing!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Shh!" Sirius hissed, "Keep it down. Think of it as a bonus, Snape's not paying us much anyway."

"He'll pay us even less once he finds out about those," Hermione warned.

Sirius waved her off, annoyed that his revelation hadn't gone as well as he thought it would. Hermione tutted and allowed Ron and Sirius to ride ahead of her. Something still felt off at the moment, even though they had put a good distance between them and Spinner's Keep.

"Speed up," Snape ordered from the front of the line. "I want to make good time today."

Hermione urged her horse into a steady trot, trying to shake off the uneasiness.

An arrow shot from the trees and hit the leg of Hermione's horse. It gave a whiney of fear and reared up, sending the young Cleric tumbling to the ground. There was a cry from Ron as a rider-less horse shot past the others. Hermione looked up to see Snape turn his Nightmare about.

"Go!" Snape snapped at the others, "Let me handle this."

The other three left Snape to it, but refused to move away. Abandoning one of their own was beyond Harry and Ron, and Sirius didn't want to miss a thing.

As Snape neared the fallen Cleric, something large and furry darted out from the trees and threw itself at Snape. The Death Knight had barely enough time to draw his sword before the... thing barrelled into him, knocking him bodily off the Nightmare. Snape's armoured form narrowly missed Hermione's small body. The Cleric scrambled to her feet and gave a whimper of terror. Snape spent longer getting up and made a noise of annoyance. The two of them – three including the Nightmare – were surrounded by wolf-like creatures.

"Fenrir?" Snape asked incredulously.

The largest wolf-man stood proudly before Snape. "That's right. Like it?"

"What have you done?" Snape carefully pushed Hermione behind him, "No, you're not clever enough for this..." the Death Knight sneered, "Sworn your loyalty to the Dark Lich have you?"

Fenrir's grin widened. "If he can do something like this, why not? All hail the Dark Lich Voldemort!"

There was a chorus of cheers from the other wolf-men. Hermione put her hand to her mouth, almost unable to keep her breakfast down.

"Once a month's slaughter not enough for you?" Snape spat, his aura of Fear in full effect. "Instead you have to make a pact to be turned into Gnolls." A few of the creatures were looking uneasy.

"How dare you!" Fenrir's grin vanished, his face twisted into something horrible. "Gnolls!" he spat on the ground, "The Lich wouldn't do that!"

"Don't be so sure," Snape said, readying his sword, "His word means very little."

Apparently fed up with talking, Fenrir launched himself at Snape. The broadsword came up and delivered a nasty gash up Fenrir's torso. Hermione gasped at the sight of blood spilling.

* * *

"We've got to do something!" Ron was being restrained by Harry and Sirius. "Hermione could be hurt!"

"She'll be fine," Sirius countered, "She can take care of herself."

A female scream rented the air.

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron shouted in unison.

Harry forgot about holding Ron back. Instead he chanted a string of magic, using the first spell that came to mind. Ron, upon hearing Harry, dropped to the ground, staying out of the spell range as much as possible.

* * *

Hermione hid behind Snape as much as she could, which was both easy – because he stood over a foot above her – and difficult – because he was engaged in combat with the Gnolls.

"By the Gods," Snape whispered breathlessly, looking away from the fight.

He grabbed the young Cleric and easily hoisted her onto the back of the Nightmare, ignoring the Gnolls' pitiful attempts at harming him through his platemail. Hermione followed the Death Knight's gaze and gasped as Harry released a spell. Though Hermione didn't recognise the arcane language, it must have meant some sense to Snape. A streak of fire shot toward the melee.

It exploded on impact.

Snape, having only managed to get one foot in the stirrups was blasted backwards. Hermione, sitting on the Nightmare, felt only a warm wind brushing past her. She had to shield her eyes from the brightness of the flames which surrounded her and the Nightmare, but did not burn them.

The magical fire disappeared, leaving smouldering corpses in its wake. A shout drew Hermione's attention to Harry and Ron, running full pelt toward her, while avoiding some of the more gruesome bodies.

"Hermione!" Ron gasped, for once not wary of the Nightmare, "Are you all right?"

"I'm sorry!" Harry garbled, "I didn't think and... The Fireball... I'm sorry!"

"I'm all right," Hermione assured them, clambering off the Nightmare.

"I'm really sorry," Harry repeated frantically.

"Not as sorry as you will be if you _ever_ cast that spell on me again," Snape's cold voice came from the ground.

The three Humans turned to look at the Undead Warrior as he stood up. Snape's already blackened armour was covered in another layer of soot. The now even more tattered remains of his cloak were on still fire, the flames and smoke giving him an extremely sinister backdrop. He seemed more tired than usual, as though his armour weighed twice as much. Despite this, however, Snape's glare was a fearsome as ever.

"I'm –" Harry began.

"So help me if the next word out of your mouth is 'sorry'," Snape snarled, "Were you even _thinking_ when you cast that spell? I thought Mages were supposed to have some amount of intelligence, and yet here you are –"

This time Snape was cut off as what looked like an invisible bucket of water was dumped on his head. His glare switched to Hermione, who faltered slightly as she put her Holy Symbol away.

"You were on fire," the young Cleric explained, as if she had done the most obvious thing in the world.

Snape gave a low growl. Frost was already beginning to form on his shoulders and breastplate. He unclasped what was left of his cloak and used it to clean off some of the sooty mess on his armour. Hermione frowned as she noticed the indistinct shape of a Phoenix on the front of Snape's armour.

"Gods give me strength," Snape muttered.

"That was really something, Harry!" Sirius called out cheerfully, "I didn't know you could cast that spell yet!"

Sirius was astride his horse and was leading Harry, Ron and Hermione's steeds behind him. The Bard looked beside himself with glee.

"This will have to go into our tale," Sirius appeared unaffected by Snape's glare, "It'll need a name, something about fire I think."

"Enough," Snape spat clearly at the end of his rope, "We are losing time and yet you insist on babbling like an idiot! You three," he snapped at Harry, Ron and Hermione, "Mount up. And don't think you have successfully avoided this incident, Potter, oh no, mark my words, when I'm through with you, you will never again cast a Fireball into a melee." Snape mounted the Nightmare and looked down at Hermione. "Oh, and Granger? Had you been prepared for a combat scenario, your friend may have trusted you enough to leave you to your own devices."

Ron gave Harry a sympathetic glance as he mounted his rides. Harry and Hermione followed suit. The small Cleric shivering as the weight of Snape's words hit home and the young Mage already feeling awful with the anticipation of Snape's punishment.

* * *

They rode in silence – though Sirius hummed a few tunes out of earshot of Snape – for a good few hours. The sun had begun its descent before the Death Knight finally manoeuvred his Nightmare alongside Harry's horse.

"You are lucky that your Cleric friend did not end up as one of those corpses," Snape said.

"I know," Harry replied miserably.

"_I know_ for a fact that you did not _think_ about the consequences of such a spell," Snape continued.

"You're right," Harry admitted, still miserable.

"Did you know that Nightmares can protect their riders from fire?" Snape questioned, he was speaking very carefully, a sign that he was holding back his anger.

"No," Harry sighed, looking back on the incident he felt incredibly stupid.

"Did you know that spell was enough to slay the Gnolls?"

"No."

"Did you know that had your Cleric friend not been able to get on my Nightmare, she would have died too?"

That was the part that hurt Harry the most. "Y-yes," he choked.

"Did you know I would be able to survive the blast?"

"N-no," Harry gasped, "But y-you said you were immune to m-magic."

"I said I had _some_ immunity to magic," Snape clarified, "The occasional spell can slip past my barriers, besides, some spells are not directly cast at the recipient. A Wall of Ice could be Evoked in mid-air and dropped to deal damage."

"I'm sorry," Harry sniffed, ashamed to feel tears stinging at his eyes, "I'll n-never cast it again. Y-you can have my c-components and tear the p-pages out of my s-spell book if you want."

"Doing such a thing to a Mage would be comparable to depriving the Fighter of his weapon, taking the Cleric's Holy Symbol, or even confiscating the Bard's lute and lockpicks," Snape gave a short laugh, "Though I might just do the latter anyway."

Harry peered up at the Death Knight. "You're not going to stop me from casting a fireball again?"

"I never said I was going to in the first place," Snape said, "You had better think twice before casting it into a fight involving your allies, but a Mage afraid to cast such a useful combat spell altogether is of no use to me."

"I'll cast it!" Harry promised quickly, "But not on you, or Ron, or Hermione, or Sirius. But I'll cast it when I need to!"

"As I expected," Snape nodded to himself, "Well, there is still the matter of your punishment."

Harry's smile faltered. "You mean..."

"...that lecture was not enough?" Snape finished for him, "Foolish boy. If that was all you ever got at Hogwarts then their standards must have slipped far indeed."

"Well McGonagall's lectures don't make me feel so bad," Harry muttered.

"I suspect your follies in the Tower have not resulted in such a near-death experience for any of your classmates," Snape sneered, "Try dangling someone out of a window; that always provokes ire."

Harry gave a weak laugh, still not completely over his near breakdown.

"Do you have spare ink and parchment?" Snape asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"I guess so..." Harry shrugged his backpack off his shoulders to look inside. "Yes, looks like I have."

"I want an essay on what you did wrong and the _proper_ applications of a Fireball spell," Snape instructed. Harry's mouth fell open. "Do you know Slytherin?" Harry nodded warily, "I want it written in Slytherin then. Your grammar must be perfect, or else I will find a much nastier task for you to compete."

"That's it?" Harry asked. "You're not going to drag me along in the dirt for the rest of the journey, or use me for target practise, or..."

"Do you wish for me to do such things?" Snape questioned, amused.

"No," Harry said quickly, "But I thought it'd be worse than just an _essay_."

"That is just the punishment from myself," Snape said, "Your friends are another story." Harry looked over to Ron and Hermione startled. "You have not noticed?" Snape asked softly, "The Cleric is still in shock and the Fighter believes that you almost killed his love. While that remains true, your intentions were to protect her... though he may not see it that way." Snape watched Harry watch his friends, comprehension dawning on the young Mage's face. "Take this as a lesson, Potter, never allow yourself to become so wrapped up in your own emotions to miss what is occurring around you. That cost me my life, along with half the Order."


	9. Sirius's Black Tale

(I apologise for the hideously long delay in getting this chapter out. I have made some plans, so hopefully the next one should be done quicker. The edited bits are just before the first line break and at the end.)

* * *

The group set up camp some time later. Harry set to work on his essay as soon as he could, sending glances at Snape and Hermione while chewing on his quill nervously. Sirius went hunting and Hermione sat down to pray to her God.

Ron approached Snape determinedly. The Death Knight looked up at the younger Fighter as he sat down on the grass. Snape was rubbing his broadsword down with an old cloth. Ron frowned at the already-gleaming metal.

"Does it need that?" he asked.

"There are enchantments in place to stop it from rusting," Snape didn't stop his polishing. "But old habits – very old habits – die hard."

"I noticed, with mine, the blood sort of... vanished after a bit," Ron said.

"As it should."

Ron rested his hand on the shortsword strapped to his belt. Snape noticed and gave a nod of approval.

"Seems you can learn after all," said the Death Knight.

"I've never needed to have a backup weapon before," Ron said, "I guess we'll be doing a bit more than chasing off the nearest bunch of Kobolds."

Snape made a noise of agreement. He put aside his sword and tugged his mace out of his belt. Ron watched carefully as Snape turned his attention to the spiky metal.

"Is that difficult to use?" the younger Fighter asked, "It looks a bit heavy."

Snape snorted. "Perhaps for you and any others who are unfamiliar with the mechanics of a bludgeoning weapon. 'The heavier they are, the harder they hit.' As one of my teachers was fond of saying."

"You had teachers?" Ron gaped.

"Did you believe me to have come into being like this? Fully skilled in the weapons of my choice?" Snape shook his head. "I thought you knew my story, boy."

"I do," Ron said quickly, "But it hadn't occurred to me that you were..."

"Human?" Snape asked, pausing in his cleaning, "A boy?"

Ron scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "Well..."

"Even the Dark Lich learnt his early magics from an older Mage," Snape resumed his cleaning.

"I just never really thought about Undead like that," Ron said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Snape paused again. "I can safely say that in the past ten years approximately ten thousand Undead have been created. Zombies and Skeletons," Snape scoffed with a wave of his hand, "Unsentient, mindless things, completely useless for any real _purpose_. But it is still an impressive number."

Ron mouthed '_ten thousand_'.

"Let us now say that a quarter of them will have actually _died_ during that time, the others will be decades old. That leaves us with twenty-five hundred who have been animated to fight for the side they opposed in life. Let us take another quarter – for those who had their homes in Gryffindor alone – and a third of that for residents of Hogsmead."

Ron just stared at Snape in horror.

"Now we have... two hundred and ten, a nice round figure."

"People from Hogsmead were turned into Undead?" Ron asked, not quite believing Snape.

"Thinking on that," Snape continued, "I am quite sure that some of them found work in my Keep."

"You –!" Ron jumped to his feet, drawing his sword.

"Control yourself, Weasley," Snape barked, "I did not animate them myself. Sit down and _think_ before you act."

Still scowling Ron lowered himself back to the ground.

Ron scowled. "Why aren't you telling Harry that? He's the one that nearly blew up you and Hermione."

"I have," Snape answered, "And just because he still needs to think before acting does _not_ give you an excuse to let your temper control your actions."

"Shut up!" Ron yelled.

"My my, Weasley, you certainly cannot deal with criticism, can you?" Snape taunted.

Ron jumped to his feet again, brandishing his sword. Snape tucked the rag into his belt and rose more sedately. Harry watched in worried anticipation.

"Don't talk to me like that," Ron snapped.

"Are you challenging me, boy?" Snape sneered.

Ron attacked without warning. Snape fended off the blows easily.

"You are _not_ a Berserker," Snape lectured, "Your anger is a hindrance, not a help."

"Stop. Telling. Me. What. To. Do!" Ron punctuated each word with a swing of his sword.

"Then learn," Snape grabbed Ron's wrist and twisted until he dropped his sword, "Listen to those who have a far vaster experience than yourself and appreciate that they are willing to teach you."

"Let go of me," Ron spat.

"You do realise," Snape said conversationally, "If I tighten my grip much more," he pulled Ron's wrist in front of his face, "I could cripple you in such a way that you could _never_ wield a sword again."

Ron tried to tug his hand out of Snape's, but the Death Knight's grip was like iron.

"Let go of me," Ron snarled.

Snape gave an experimental squeeze and the colour drained from Ron's face.

"As you can probably tell, I have never had this done to my own arm," Snape continued calmly, but his eyes were blazing. "It would be interesting to see how it affects you."

"Let go," Ron begged, "Please."

Snape dropped his hand and, with an almost disappointed sigh, sheathed his sword and tucked his mace back into his belt. Ron, however, was shivering and rubbing his bruised wrist. He picked his sword off the ground awkwardly, using his left hand instead of his right.

"Have... Have you ever done that to someone before?" Ron asked.

"Many years ago," Snape replied, "The Dark Lich was very impressed during the second war."

"I thought you were on our side," Ron said warily.

"I was," Snape said firmly, "But it is... _difficult_, to infiltrate enemy ranks if you are unprepared to follow their orders."

"I guess," Ron awkwardly put his sword back into its scabbard.

"Did you approach me purely for the chance to test your skills? Or perhaps there was something more motivating you," Snape said, watching Ron carefully.

"Er..." Ron began awkwardly, "I wanted to thank you for saving Hermione." He held out his hand.

Snape shook it after a second's hesitation.

* * *

"Hermione?" Harry asked quietly.

Hermione opened her eyes and shook her head to clear the trance she was in. Harry dropped to the ground in front of her with a clumsy clatter. Hermione's lips twitched, but she managed not to smile.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Well..." Harry scratched his nose and smudged ink all over it, "Snape set me an essay... and I was wondering if you could help me... or not, if you're still mad I'll go away! But I wanted to say sorry again, and I thought this might help, and..."

"Calm down," Hermione chided, "Let me have a look."

Harry handed over a roll of parchment covered in his messy handwriting. Blots of ink almost obscured a few words and Harry had clearly leant on it, as some of the words were smudged.

"I know it's a bit messy," Harry said apologetically, "I'm used to writing on tables."

"I understand," Hermione assured him, "And it's awfully nice of you to try Slytherin on a rough surface."

Harry frowned. "_Nice_ of me? I just made it indecipherable."

"It will save Lord Snape from translating. I always find no matter how much practise I get with other languages, Gryffindor is always the easiest for me to read." Hermione explained. "Don't you find that?"

"Snape's from Slytherin?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Haven't you read the history of the First Downfall?" Hermione scolded. "Honestly, Harry, I'm surprised you even passed any of your exams."

"I'm not that bad," Harry complained, "It's just History."

Hermione made a '_humph_' noise, but began reading the essay instead of berating Harry.

_The Fireball spell is one of the most common well known Mage spells. Even as a child I could be found pretending to cast it in your 'adventures'. Up until that day I had yet to see it cast, thus I was surprise to see the amount of hurt it did..._

Hermione sighed and reached for a quill to begin correcting. Harry hid a smile, things were looking up.

* * *

Sirius returned with a solitary rabbit, muttering unseemly things about Death Knights scaring dinner off under his breath.

After the meal, Sirius plucked at his lute a few times. A tune softly filled the air and the Half-elf began a tale.

"Our story begins, dear listeners, some hundred years ago. The Ancient Black Dragon Ebony terrorises any town or village she came across. None are able to escape her wrath, not even such a town as Godric's Port.

"Ebony was, as all Dragons are, obsessed with treasure. Anything shiny or magical and they were on it like jam on toast. Farms had been known to be destroyed, purely because Ebony had caught the sun on the blade of a scythe and believed it to be something of value.

"Now, the Queen of Gryffindor had a prized collection of jewels, she loved them like she loved nothing else. The King built a twisted maze, full of traps and monsters and riddles. A dungeon of magnificent proportions, enough to keep out an entire legion of Dragons.

"Of course, our vicious villain Ebony did not reach her advanced years without a small amount of cunning about her. Unable to even enter the crooked passageways of the King's labyrinth, she sought out any men who were willing to follow her orders.

"They laid out their plans and waited for the opportune moment.

"But what is a story without a hero? Here I am praising the villain's mind, but not a word about the bright hero. Well, our hero, a noble, handsome man is nothing but a farmhand at the moment. After all, are not the best heroes those who start with the most humble of beginnings?

"Our hero had always dreamed of adventure. Often the great bulk of ­­Ebony had flown overhead. Our hero swore to be the one to take the beast out of the skies before the acid breath melted his home.

"Since it is all well and good _promising_ these sort of things, our hero must prove himself, must he not? So, one night, our hero overhears the whisperings of the Dragon's faithful. '_Tonight,_' they whisper, '_Tonight we will rob the King!_"

"What is our hero to do, except of course rush to the palace and warn the guards. The armoured folk laugh at our hero. '_Who could get through His Majesty's maze?_' they scoff, '_Begone with you, before we find reason to run you through._' Our hero, finding none who will help him, runs off to stop the brigands himself.

"Now you may believe our hero is to be gutted the second he stands up to the thieves. But he is quite a bit smarter than that. After all, he is the hero of our tale. So, under the cover of darkness, as the thieves stole into the King's labyrinth, our hero stole into the Dragon's lair.

"A Black Dragon's lair is a sight to behold, or so I've been told. A large pool of water surrounded by heaps of gold and jewels. The Blacks can breathe underwater of course, so that is where our villain lay in slumber, waiting for her henchmen to return.

"Our hero begins searching the mound of treasure for an artefact he had heard tell of. As dawn approaches he stumbles across it finally. A crystal, as big as a man's head, that has the power to transform water into unbreakable diamond. It will petrify anyone who dares to touch it with their bare hands.

"Luckily, our hero has heard enough of the tales to know to wrap a cloth around his hand before grabbing the crystal. At that moment there is a loud growling noise. Ebony has woken!

"Knowing he had but seconds, our hero throws the crystal with all of his might toward the pool. It works its magic, solidifying the water quickly, but not quickly enough! Ebony Manages to get her ugly snout and eyes out of the water before it crystallises around her.

"'_Man,_' Ebony rasps, '_Get me out and I will reward you by not killing you_.' Our hero trembles at that terrible voice, but holds his ground, as the word of the Black Dragons is as worthless as anything touched by their corrosive breath.

"Our hero hoists his sword, readying himself to end the life of this monster. Ebony sees this and spits a jet of black acid at the man. Our hero jumps out of the way, but his left hand is caught in the caustic spray. The flesh melts from the bone and Ebony laughs at our hero's scream of agony.

"That laugh was Ebony's last. Our hero stabbed the Dragon through the eye, ending his life with a single stroke.

"At that second the thieves returned with the Queens jewels. Our hero apprehended them and led them back to Godric's Port and the prison where they belonged. The Queen was ecstatic to have her precious jewels back and bade the King knight the young hero.

"The King did so happily, now that Ebony was dead he had decidedly less trouble. However, when they reached the ceremony, it turned out that our hero did not know the family name to which he belonged. People whispered amongst themselves, '_Such a scandal!_' they said.

"However, the King had no trouble with this. '_Since you have defeated such a dangerous beast,_' said he, '_You shall take its name. Arise, Sir Black._'"

There was a respectful silence, broken by Ron's snores.

"When I first heard that tale, there was an adventuring party, not just an inexperienced farmhand that slew the Dragon," Snape commented, "The leader took the name 'Black' and it was one of the spellcasters who froze the Dragon's lake."

"Different versions," Sirius shrugged, "The basics are true, but it makes for a much better story this way. And it puts people off stealing large gems, just in case they'll be petrified."

"So it did actually happen then?" Harry asked.

Sirius held up his left hand. A birthmark wrapped around the palm and over his thumb. He traced it carefully.

"Any Black has this mark, from where Ebony melted the hand of our ancestor," Sirius said.

"Wow," said Harry.

"Sleep now," Snape ordered, "If you fall off your horse I will drag you along the ground."

Grumbling, but yawning, Harry settled down for the night.

* * *

(Apologies for the re-write, but there was no way I could write further until I'd gotten past this point.)


End file.
